THE 

OUTDOOR  GIRLS 

attMOSTESSHOUSE 


MOLLY  SOUGHT  THE  HELP  OF  THE  VOUNG  SOLDIER. 
The  Outdoor  Girls  at  the  Hostess  House  Frontispiece  (Page  90) 


The   Outdoor  Girls 

at  the 

Hostess  House 

OR 

DOING  THEIR  BEST  FOR 
THE  SOLDIERS 


BY 
LAURA  LEE  HOPE 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  OF  DEEPDALE,"  "THE 

MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS,"  "THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS," 

"BUNNY  BROWN  AND  His   SISTER  SUE,"  "Six 

LITTLE  BUNKERS  AT  GRANDMA  BELL'S,"  ETC 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


BOOKS  FOR  GIRLS 

BY  LAURA  LEE  HOPE 


I2mo.    Cloth.    Illustrated. 


THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  SERIES 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  OF  DEEPDALE 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  RAINBOW  LAKE 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  IN  A  MOTOR  CAR 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  INA  WINTER  CAMP 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  IN  FLORIDA 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  OCEAN  VIEW 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  ON  PINE  ISLAND 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  IN  ARMY  SERVICE 

THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 


THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  SERIES 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  AT  OAK  FARM 
THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  SNOWBOUND 
THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  UNDER  THE 

PALMS 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  AT  ROCKY  RANCH 
THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  AT  SEA 
THE  MOVING  PICTURE  GIRLS  IN  WAR  PLAYS 


THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  SERIES 
(Twelve  Titles) 


THE  BUNNY  BROWN  SERIES 

(Eight  Titles) 


SIX   LITTLE   BUNKERS   SERIES 

(Five  Titles) 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 
GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 


THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 


VJRl 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    HERO  WORSHIP I 

II    THE  ACCIDENT 10 

III  THE  SHADOW  OF  MYSTERY 19 

IV  MRS.  SANDERSON'S  STORY 28 

V    FUN  AND  SOLDIERS 38 

VI    PLANNING   CAPTURE 48 

VII    A  LARK  IN  THE  OPEN 57 

VIII    ENTER  SERGEANT  MULLJNS 65 

IX    THE  BAYONET  DRILL 74 

X    ALARMING  SYMPTOMS 82 

XI    POLITE  KIDNAPPERS 89 

XII    WHERE  LOVE  Is  DEAF '/  .  98 

XIII  THE  COPPERHEAD .'..     .     .  106 

XIV  THE  REINS  TIGHTEN          .     .     .  6      ...  115 
XV    THE  FATEFUL  DAY    .     .     .     .     . 123 

XVI    SPARRING  FOR  TIME 130 

XVII  TEARS   AND   PATRIOTISM      .     .         '• ,     ...  138 

XVIII  AFTER  THE  BOYS  LEFT    ........  148 

XIX    REAL  TRAGEDY '       ...  158 

XX    THE  MOTORCYCLIST  AGAIN 168 

Hi 


iv  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI  THE  CHASE 176 

XXII  STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS        184 

XXIII  THE  MIRACLE 192 

XXIV  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED 201 

XXV  To  "CARRY  ON"  210 


THE  OUTDOOR  GIRLS 
AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

CHAPTER  I 

HERO  WORSHIP 

"On,  Mollie,  please  be  careful!" 

The  big  car  skidded  perilously  around  a  sharp 
curve  and  chug-chugged  merrily  down  the  road. 

"Goodness,  I've  been  careful  so  long  I'm  afraid 
it  will  grow  on  me,"  Mollie  Billette,  sometimes 
known  as  "Billy,"  retorted,  a  determined  set  to 
her  pretty  chin.  "Someway,  I've  got  to  get  it 
out  of  my  system." 

The  automobile,  a  big  seven-passenger  car,  be- 
longed to  Mollie,  and  the  four  Outdoor  Girls, 
having  secured  a  half-holiday  from  their  work 
at  the  Hostess  House,  were  out  for  recreation. 

As  may  have  been  gathered,  Mollie  was  driv- 
ing. Amy  Blackwell,  fearful  of  an  accident,  was 
in  the  seat  beside  her,  while  Grace  Ford  and  Betty 
Nelson,  their  beloved  Little  Captain,  occupied 
the  tonneau  and  amused  themselves  by  laughing 
at  Amy's  fears. 

i 


2    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Well,  but  you  needn't  take  it  out  on  us,"  Amy 
said  in  reply  to  Mollie's  assertion.  "If  you're 
going  to  take  many  more  of  those  two- wheel 
turns,  I'm  going  to  get  out  and  walk.  Oh, 
Mol-lie !"  The  speech  ended  in  a  wail,  as  Mollie 
wickedly  rounded  another  curve,  jolting  Amy 
half  out  of  her  seat. 

"I  don't  know  but  what  I  agree  with  Amy," 
drawled  Grace,  from  the  tonneau,  helping  herself 
to  a  chocolate,  upon  which  Betty's  eye  had  just 
rested  longingly.  "I've  been  bumped  around  so 
much  I  can't  tell  whether  I'm  a  girl  or  a  scrambled 
egg.  Now,  look  what  you  did !"  A  sudden  lurch 
of  the  big  car  had  sent  the  box  of  chocolates  to 
the  floor,  where  its  contents  rolled  about  aggra- 
vatingly  at  their  feet.  "Come  back  here,  Mollie 
Billette,  and  pick  them  up.  That's  the  least " 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  never  uttered,  for 
Mollie  brought  the  car  to  so  sudden  a  stop  that 
Grace  and  Betty  both  lurched  forward  and  nar- 
rowly escaped  bumping  their  noses  on  the  back  of 
the  seat  in  front  of  them. 

"Sure,"  said  the  reckless  driver,  turning  her 
bright  black  eyes  expectantly  upon  them.  "Will 
you  promise  to  give  me  all  I  pick  up?" 

"All  you "  Grace  was  beginning,  striving 

desperately  to  recover  her  breath  and  her  dignity 
at  the  same  time,  the  accomplishment  of  which 


HERO   WORSHIP  3 

feat  was  decidedly  retarded  by  growing  indigna- 
tion. "Goodness,  I  never  heard  such  a " 

"Very  well,"  returned  Mollie,  and,  without 
deigning  to  parley  further,  turned  determinedly 
to  the  wheel.  "That's  all  I  wanted  to  know " 

"Just  a  minute,  Mollie,  dearest,"  Betty's  laugh- 
ing voice  broke  in.  "You  know  I'm  not  worrying 
about  the  chocolates  at  all,  but  I'm  not  particu- 
larly anxious  to  spoil  my  perfectly  good  shoes 
with  crushed  chocolate  or,  on  the  other  hand, 
bump  my  perfectly  good  nose  in  a  vain  attempt 
to  pick  them " 

"Which,  candy  or  shoes?"  Mollie  broke  in 
impishly. 

"Candy,"  answered  Betty  soberly.  "As  I  was 
saying,  neither  of  these  alternatives  appeal  to  me, 
so,  with  your  kind  permission,  I  would  beg  you 
to  hold  your  horses " 

"As  the  vulgar  herd  would  say,"  again  mur- 
mured Mollie. 

"Exactly — as  the  vulgar  herd  would  say," 
agreed  Betty,  dimpling  adorably,  " — until  we  have 
a  chance  to  collect  the  scattered  sweets." 

"You  win,"  Mollie  capitulated,  speaking  in  a 
tone  reserved  for  the  "Little  Captain."  "Only 
please  make  Grace  hurry  or  the  afternoon  will  be 
over  before  she  begins." 

"Goodness,  listen  to  it "  Grace  was  begin- 


4    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

ning,  straightening  indignantly  from  her  stooping 
posture  and  preparing  once  more  to  enter  the 

fray.  "When  it's  all  her  fault,  anyway "  But 

Betty  upset  both  speech  and  dignity  by  uncere- 
moniously pulling  her  down  again. 

"Come  on!  Hurry,  Grade!"  she  commanded. 
"And  don't  overlook  any,  because  there's  nothing 
so  messy  as  a  chocolate " 

"As  if  there  were  any  chance  of  Grace's  over- 
looking a  chocolate !"  scoffed  Mollie.  "Why,  all 
she  has  to  do  is  whistle  to  'em  and  they  come 
rolling  up  obediently." 

"Goodness,  who'd  want  them  anyway,  after 
they've  rolled  around  and  picked  up  all  the  dust 
and  millions  of  germs  from  the  bottom  of  the 
car?"  grumbled  Grace,  cross  at  having  to  exert 
herself  to  even  so  small  an  extent.  Grace,  as  my 
old  readers  doubtless  remember,  had  been  born 
with  an  ease-loving  disposition  that  not  even  close 
association  with  the  other  Outdoor  Girls  had 
served  to  change.  Perhaps,  as  Mollie  had  once 
remarked,  that  was  why  the  girls  were  so  fond 
of  her — because  she  was  "so  different." 

"Well,  if  you  don't  want  'em/'  Mollie  replied 
practically,  "why  didn't  you  agree  to  my  proposi- 
tion? I  promised  to  eat  them  for  you,  germs  and 
all,  and  all  I  got  for  my  sacrifice  was  one  wither- 
ing glance " 


HERO  WORSHIP  5 

"At  that  you're  lucky,"  Grace  retorted,  straight- 
ening up  from  a  spirited  chase  of  the  last  elusive 
chocolate,  red  of  face  and  fierce  of  eye.  "Some 
time  I'll  come  to  the  end  of  my  patience,  and 
then,  Mollie  Billette,  you'd  better  look  out." 

"My !"  chuckled  Betty,  "isn't  she  fierce  ?  Never 
mind,  honey,  Roy  will  give  you  another  box,  if 
you  ask  him  very  prettily." 

"Goodness,  if  he  can't  do  it  without  being 
asked,"  retorted  Grace  crossly,  "he  can  keep  his 
old  candies." 

"If  I  thought  you  meant  that,  I'd  say  you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,"  put  in  Amy,  with 
unaccustomed  spirit,  as  Mollie  threw  in  the  clutch 
and  the  big  car  started  off  again.  "Anybody 
that  had  been  as  good  to  you  as  Roy  has 
been '' 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  you've  been  particu- 
larly neglected,"  retorted  Grace,  meaningly,  while 
Amy  reddened.  "I  never  thought  that  Will  could 
be  such  a  perfect  Romeo." 

"Oh,  dear,"  murmured  Betty  protestingly. 
"Can't  we  have  just  one  good  time,  without  bring- 
ing the  boys  into  it  ?" 

"Now,  see  who's  talking,"  chuckled  Mollie  de- 
lightedly, changing  into  high  and  driving  with 
wild,  care- free  recklessness  along  the  smooth 
road.  "Oh,  Betty  darling,  much  as  I  love  you, 


there  do  come  times  when  you  make  me  laugh." 

"Well,  it's  good  to  know  I'm  bringing  happi- 
ness into  some  dark  life,"  retorted  Betty  good- 
naturedly.  "At  least  I  have  not  lived  in  vain." 

"And  they  were  just  mad,"  Mollie  continued, 
as  though  talking  to  herself,  "when  they  found 
we  were  going  off  this  afternoon  without  them." 

"Yes,  and  isn't  it  funny?"  agreed  Grace  lazily. 
"They  think  they're  so  important." 

"Well,  they  are,"  announced  Amy  suddenly, 
and  even  Mollie  turned  an  amazed  eye  upon  her. 

"I  think  they're  the  most  important  people  in 
the  world,"  Amy  continued  stoutly.  "I  guess  if 
we  were  going  to  give  up  our  lives  for  somebody 
else  we  might  think  we  were  important,  too." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that  way,"  Mollie  returned, 
her  eyes  once  more  turning  to  the  ribbon  of  road 
ahead  while  the  girls'  bright  faces  sobered 
thoughtfully.  "Because  when  it  comes  to  a  thing 
like  giving  up  their  lives — well,  I  think  they're 

the  bravest "  Her  voice  broke,  and  in  an 

effort  to  hide  her  emotion  she  nearly  sent  the  car 
over  the  side  of  the  road  and  into  a  six-foot  ditch. 

"Brave,"  repeated  Betty,  turning  her  eyes  to 
the  far  horizon  to  hide  the  mist  that  suddenly 
gathered  in  them.  "I  don't  think  that's  any  word 
for  our  boys  at  all " 

"They  don't  seem  to  realize  what  they're  going 


HERO  WORSHIP  7 

into,"  Amy  broke  in  eagerly.  "Or,  if  they  do, 
they  won't  talk  about  it,  or  let  any  one  else " 

"Oh,  I  guess  it  isn't  that  they  don't  realize  it," 
Grace  interrupted  thoughtfully.  "You  know  my 
father  always  used  to  say  that  a  man  who  never 
knew  what  it  was  to  be  afraid  wasn't  really  brave 
at  all.  He  said  it  was  the  man  who  was  scared  to 
death  in  his  heart,  that  gritted  his  teeth  and  went 
ahead  and  faced  things  anyway,  that  deserves  all 
the  credit." 

"I  presume  that's  right,"  said  the  Little  Cap- 
tain, leaning  forward  earnestly.  "I  don't  suppose 
there  is  any  one  in  the  world  who  really  enjoys 
the  thought  of  losing  an  arm  or  a  leg,  or  being 
broken  in  health  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  I  think 
what  our  boys  are  doing  is  just  to  take  the  fear 
of  that  with  a  smile  and  go  ahead  gayly  to  face 

whatever  may  come.  Brave "  Her  voice 

trailed  off,  and  for  a  long  time  there  was  silence 
while  the  big  car  hummed  rhythmically  along  the 
road  and  the  miles  swept  by  uncounted. 

"Of  course,  there  are  lots  of  people,"  Betty 
resumed  after  a  while,  "who  say  the  boys  just 
enlisted  for  the  love  of  adventure,  the  love  of  a 
good  fight,  and  I  suppose  that  had  something  to 
do  with  it." 

"Of  course  it  had,"  Mollie  agreed.  "And  that's 
one  thing  that  makes  it  harder  for  us  who  have 


8    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

to  stay  at  home  and  can't  have  any  of  the  thrill 
and  excitement  that  helps  to  carry  the  boys 
through.  But  it's  only  one  of  a  dozen  reasons, 
after  all." 

"I  wish  we  knew  when  they  were  going,"  said 
Grace,  irrelevantly.  "The  suspense  is  worse  than 
anything  else.  It's  like  cutting  a  dog's  tail  off  an 
inch  at  a  time." 

"Goodness,  isn't  she  complimentary?"  flung 
back  Mollie,  laughing.  "You  can  compare  your- 
self to  a  four-footed  dog,  Grace,  but  please  leave 
me  out  of  it." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  two-footed  dog?" 
Grace  retorted. 

"To  change  the  subject,"  Betty  interposed 
hastily,  seeking  to  avoid  a  storm.  "Don't  you 
think  it's  almost  time  to  be  turning  back  ?  We've 

gone  farther  than •  Oh,  Mollie!  Girls! 

Look!" 

They  had  rounded  a  curve  in  the  road  at  their 
usual  breakneck  speed,  and  Mollie  stopped  the  car 
with  a  jolt  that  very  nearly  sent  its  occupants 
flying  into  the  roadway.. 

Before  them,  not  twenty  yards  away,  a  little 
figure  in  black  lay  huddled  in  the  road  while  the 
motorcyclist  who  had  caused  the  accident,  sped 
by  the  girls,  exhaust  open  and  head  lowered. 

Dazedly  they  gazed  after  machine  and  rider 


HERO  WORSHIP  9 

for  a  minute  till  they  disappeared  round  a  turn 
in  the  road.  Then,  with  a  cry  of  dismay,  Betty 
tumbled  out  of  the  car,  followed  by  the  other 
girls. 

The  prostrate  figure  in  the  road  lay  very,  very 
still. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  ACCIDENT 

"BETTY,  is  she  dead  ?" 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,"  said  Betty,  white-faced  and 
pitying,  as  she  bent  over  the  little  old  woman. 
"That  man  ought  to  be  hung!  I'll  loosen  her 
collar.  And,  Grace,  see  if  you  can  find  some 
water.  Hurry,  dear." 

And  while  the  girls  are  ministering  to  the 
poor  little  victim  of  the  accident,  the  opportunity 
will  be  taken  to  tell  new  readers  something  about 
the  Outdoor  Girls  and  their  activities  and  adven- 
tures in  other  volumes  of  this  series. 

Betty  Nelson,  gay  and  fun-loving,  possessed 
the  natural  gift  o£  leadership  which  had  earned 
for  her  the  title  of  "Little  Captain."  The  girls 
adored  her  and  followed  her  unquestioningly 
wherever  she  led. 

Grace  Ford  was  a  graceful,  tall,  pretty  girl 
with  a  decided  and  insatiable  fondness  for  choco- 
late candy.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  or  rather, 
at  the  time  of  America's  entry  into  the  war,  her 

10 


THE   ACCIDENT  II 

brother  Will  had  caused  her  great  unhappiness 
by  his  failure  to  enlist  with  the  other  boys  of  her 
acquaintance.  The  mystery  had  been  satisfac- 
torily explained  later,  however,  and  when  this 
story  opens,  Will  was  on  his  way  to  make  a  splen- 
did soldier  in  America's  army  of  democracy. 

There  was  a  bit  of  French  blood  in  Mollie 
Billette,  or  "Billy,"  as  the  girls  sometimes  called 
her.  Bright  black  eyes  which  could,  upon  occa- 
sion, snap  fire  and  a  rather  unruly  temper  attested 
to  this  French  ancestry. 

The  last  one  of  the  quartette  was  Amy  Black- 
ford,  quiet  and  retiring,  but  given  to  occasional 
outbursts  which  never  failed  to  surprise  and  de- 
light the  girls.  The  mystery  which  at  one  time 
had  surrounded  her  origin  had  been  cleared  up 
some  years  before  by  the  finding  of  Henry  Black- 
ford,  her  long-lost  brother. 

How  the  girls  formed  a  camping  and  tramp 
club  and  the  fun  they  had  on  their  interesting 
and  adventurous  tour,  has  been  told  in  the  first 
volume  of  the  series,  entitled  "The  Outdoor  Girls 
of  Deepdale." 

After  this  the  girls  had  many  adventures,  first 
at  Rainbow  Lake,  to  which  they  went  on  another 
tour,  this  time  in  an  automobile.  From  there 
they  went  to  a  winter  camp  where  they  had  many 
varied  and  exciting:  experiences  on  skates  and  ice- 


12    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

boats.  Then  followed  a  glorious  trip  to  Florida, 
where  the  girls  braved  many  dangers  and  took 
thrilling  trips  into  the  wilds  of  the  interior. 

Their  next  adventure  took  them  to  Ocean  View 
and  centered  about  a  mysterious  box  they  found 
in  the  sand. 

Then  followed  that  glorious  trip  to  Pine  Island. 
An  aunt  of  Mollie  Billette  had  turned  her  bunga- 
low over  to  the  Outdoor  Girls  for  the  summer. 
During  their  strenuous  adventures  the  girls  had 
made  many  friends  among  the  boys  and  young 
men  of  Deepdale,  and  four  of  these  had  asked 
and  been  granted  permission  by  the  girls  to  accom- 
pany them  to  Pine  Island  and  pitch  their  camp  in 
the  woods  near  by. 

One  of  the  young  men  was  Allen  Washburn, 
a  rising  young  lawyer  and  a  great  admirer  of 
Betty.  Another  was  Will  Ford,  Grace's  brother, 
and  a  third  was  his  high  school  chum,  Frank 
Haley.  The  fourth,  Roy  Anderson,  had  been 
drawn  into  the  circle  chiefly  through  his  admira- 
tion for  Grace. 

During  that  eventful  summer  on  Pine  Island 
the  young  people  had  accidentally  discovered  a 
gypsy  cave,  concealed  by  underbrush,  and  had 
succeeded  not  only  in  rounding  up  the  band  of 
gypsies  but  in  recovering  several  valuable  articles 
that  had  been  stolen  from  the  girls. 


THE   ACCIDENT  13 

Their  last  adventure,  related  in  the  volume 
directly  preceding  this  one,  and  entitled  "Outdoor 
Girls  in  Army  Service,"  found  the  girls  and  boys 
again  at  Pine  Island,  but  under  very  much  altered 
conditions.  America  had  entered  the  great  World 
War  and  all  the  boys  but  Will  Ford  had  volun- 
teered. Later,  the  boys  were  called  to  Camp 
Liberty,  some  distance  from  Deepdale,  and  the 
girls  conceived  the  plan  of  opening  a  Hostess 
House  for  the  benefit  of  the  relatives  and  friends 
of  the  boys.  The  plan  worked  out  very  satis- 
factorily. 

While  still  at  Pine  Island  the  girls  and  boys 
had  come  upon  a  suspicious  looking  man  in  the 
woods.  Upon  finding  himself  discovered  the  man 
had  made  his  escape,  but  in  his  hurry  had  dropped 
a  letter  which  the  girls  found  to  their  disgust  was 
written  in  code.  They  decided  that  the  man  must 
have  been  a  German  spy. 

At  Camp  Liberty  the  girls  succeeded  in  round- 
ing up  the  spy,  and  found,  to  their  surprise,  that 
Will  Ford,  who  was  in  the  Secret  Service,  had 
been  engaged  all  that  time  in  tracking  him  to 
earth.  Will,  having  accomplished  his  mission, 
immediately  enlisted. 

Now,  at  the  time  this  story  opens,  the  girls 
were  still  at  the  Hostess  House  and  looking  for- 
ward apprehensively  to  the  time,  now  imminent, 


I4    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

when  the  boys  would  be  ordered  across  the  sea 
to  fight  for  the  country  they  loved. 

"I'll  go  with  Grace,"  volunteered  Amy,  in  an- 
swer to  Betty's  request  for  water.  "I  don't  sup- 
pose we  can  find  any,  but  we'll  try." 

The  two  girls  hurried  off,  leaving  Mollie  and 
Betty  to  loosen  the  woman's  collar  and  rub  her 
cold  hands. 

"Betty,  Betty,  is  she  dead  ?"  Mollie  was  crying 
for  perhaps  the  hundredth  time,  when  the  woman 
herself  answered  the  question  by  opening  her  eyes 
and  looking  vacantly  about  her. 

"Who — are — you?"  she  queried  faintly,  strug- 
gling to  rise. 

"Oh,  please  don't  try  to  get  up  just  yet,"  Betty 
pleaded,  looking  very  sweet  and  charming  in  her 
solicitude.  "I  don't  think  you're  strong 
enough " 

But  the  woman  seemed  of  a  different  mind, 
and  made  such  a  desperate  effort  to  raise  herself 
that  Betty  had  no  alternative  but  to  help  her  to 
her  feet. 

The  girls  supported  the  unsteady  little  figure 
while  the  dim  old  eyes  roved  questioningly  about. 

"I — got — hurt!"  she  gasped,  and  then  quite 
suddenly  fainted  again. 

"Oh,  Betty!"  moaned  Mollie,  her  face  white 
with  pity.  "She's  hurt  worse,  much  worse,  than 


THE   ACCIDENT  15 

we  thought  she  was!     Oh,  what  shall  we  do?" 

"There's  only  one  thing  to  do,"  replied  Betty, 
trying  to  hide  the  tremor  in  her  voice.  "We'll 
have  to  get  her  to  the  hospital,  and  in  a  hurry." 

"But  Grace  and  Amy!"  gasped  Mollie.  "We 
can't  go  without  them." 

"We  can  at  least  get  her  into  the  car,"  Betty 
said,  indicating  the  limp  little  figure  in  the  road- 
way. "You  take  her  feet,  Mollie,  and  I'll  take 
her  head.  We  haven't  spent  all  our  lives  out- 
doors for  nothing." 

Between  them  they  succeeded  in  carrying  their 
burden  to  the  car  and  settled  her  gently  in  the 
tonneau. 

"Oh,  if  Grace  and  Amy  would  only  come!" 
Mollie  was  crying  distractedly  when  the  girls 
themselves  burst  through  the  underbrush,  crying 
despairingly  that  they  had  not  been  able  to  find 
water,  that  there  was  not  a  house  anywhere  for 
miles  around. 

But  Betty  cut  their  lamentations  short  and 
hurried  them  into  the  car. 

"But  where  do  I  come  in?"  gasped  Grace,  as 
Betty  dropped  into  the  back  seat  beside  the  little 
old  woman  and  took  the  poor  unconscious  head 
in  her  arms. 

"Oh,  anywhere,"  answered  Betty  indifferently, 
her  mind  on  one  object  only.  "On  the  floor  or  on 


1 6    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

the  roof  or  anywhere,  only  hurry.  Now,  Mollie 
dear,  drive  as  you  never  drove  before." 

Mollie  obediently  threw  in  the  clutch,  and  the 
heavy  car  shot  forward,  throwing  Grace  to  a 
seat  on  the  floor  where  she  fell  with  more  haste 
than  dignity. 

Nobody  noticed  her,  however,  and  even  a 
growing  bump  on  her  forehead  received  scant 
attention.  All  were  too  intent  upon  the  matter 
at  hand. 

At  this  spot  the  road  was  very  narrow  and  on 
each  side  sloped  down  sharply  about  ten  or  twelve 
feet  to  the  level  of  the  fields.  It  seemed  almost 
an  impossibility  to  turn  the  car  in  that  narrow 
space  without  precipitating  it  down  either  one 
or  the  other  of  the  steep  banks. 

After  many  fruitless  attempts  and  barely 
escaped  tragedies,  however,  Mollie  finally  suc- 
ceeded, and  the  car  was  sent  flying  down  the  white 
stretch  of  road  that  led  to  Camp  Liberty  and  the 
hospital. 

"Oh,  I  hope  we'll  get  there  in  time,"  Amy  mur- 
mured over  and  over  again,  and  kept  looking 
at  the  pathetic  little  victim.  "Is  she  still  breath- 
ing, Betty?  Are  you  sure?" 

To  this  Betty  always  nodded  in  the  affirmative, 
her  little  mouth  grimly  set,  her  eyes  fixed  steadily 
ahead,  as  though  she  would  draw  their  destina- 


THE   ACCIDENT  17 

tion  nearer  to  them  by  the  very  force  of  her 
desire. 

"I  wonder,"  Mollie  flung  back  at  them  from 
between  clenched  teeth,  "what  that  motorcyclist 
looked  like.  I'd  like  to  meet  him  again — with  a 
firing  squad." 

"Why  I  saw  him,"  came  Grace's  muffled  voice 
from  the  floor  of  the  car. 

"So  did  I,"  added  Amy. 

"So  you  would  recognize  him  again?"  Mollie 
demanded  eagerly,  swerving  the  car  perilously 
near  the  edge  of  the  road. 

"Are  you  sure?"  added  Betty,  taking  her  eyes 
from  the  far  horizon  and  regarding  Grace 
intently. 

Both  girls  nodded  vigorously. 

"His  head  was  down,  of  course,"  Amy  con- 
tinued, "but  I'd  know  his  face  in  a  minute  if  I 
saw  it  again.  Eyes  close  together,  long  nose " 

"And  a  little  mustache,"  Grace  finished 
eagerly.  "The  kind  Percy  Falconer  used  to  wear 
and  we  girls  called  an  eyebrow  on  his  lip." 

"He  must  have  been  a  thing  of  beauty,"  com- 
mented Mollie. 

"He  had  the  meanest  kind  of  face,"  said  Amy, 
with  a  little  shudder.  "The  kind  you  wouldn't 
like  to  meet  on  a  dark  night." 

"I  should  have  judged  as  much  from  your 


i8    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

description,"  said  Betty  dryly.  "There's  one  good 
thing  about  him — we  ought  to  be  able  to  recogni/e 
him  easily." 

"You  talk  as  though  you  expected  to  meet  him 
again,"  said  Amy,  looking  at  her  curiously. 

"I  do,"  answered  Betty  determinedly.  "Some 
time  we're  going  to  find  that  fellow  and  make 
him  pay  for  what  he's  done.  Think  of  it!"  she 
added,  turning  upon  them  suddenly  while  her 
eyes  flashed  fire.  "To  run  down  a  helpless  old 
woman  in  the  road  and  then  not  even  stop  to 
find  out  whether  you've  killed  her  or  not !  We'll 
find  him  if  we  have  to  search  the  country  for 
fifty  miles  around  1" 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  SHADOW  OF  MYSTERY 

THE  girls  never  forgot  that  mad  ride  to  Camp 
Liberty.  Mile  after  mile  sped  by  on  wings,  and 
it  was  not  till  they  were  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town  itself  that  the  victim  of  the  accident  showed 
signs  of  returning  consciousness. 

Then  she  sighed,  moved  her  head  a  little  rest- 
lessly on  Betty's  shoulder,  and  opened  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  said,  faintly  but  so  abruptly 
that  Betty  and  Grace  started.  "I  knew  I'd  have 
— to  do  it — some  day!" 

When  the  girls  came  to  know  her  better  they 
no  longer  wondered  at  her  quaint  and  unexpected 
sayings.  But  at  the  moment  this  queer  state- 
ment, coming  as  it  did  from  one  who  they 
thought  must  be  hovering  at  death's  door,  rather 
startled  them. 

"Wh — what?"  stammered  Betty,  bewildered, 
while  the  others  stared  with  wide  eyes.  "What 
did  you  say  ?" 

"I  said,"  replied  the  surprising  old  woman,  in  a 
19 


20    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

stronger  voice,  trying  unsteadily  to  straighten 
herself  in  the  seat  and  raising  trembling  hands 
to  her  rather  dilapidated  old  hat,  "that  I  was 
sure  to  come  to  it  some  day.  There's  a  fate  in 
such  things." 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other  uncertainly,  and 
into  the  minds  of  each  flashed  the  startled  suspi- 
cion that  perhaps  the  poor  old  soul  was  mentally 
defective.  Or,  maybe,  the  accident 

The  woman  seemed  to  sense  something  of  their 
bewilderment,  and  into  her  eyes,  still  bright  in 
spite  of  her  age  and  what  she  had  just  gone 
through,  there  came  a  twinkle — yes,  a  real 
twinkle. 

"No,  I'm  not  crazy,"  she  assured  them,  regain- 
ing her  strength  with  amazing  quickness.  "You 
see,  it  seemed  kind  o'  funny  to  me  after  all  these 
years  o'  swearin'  that  I'd  never  ride  in  one  o* 
these  gasoline  cars  to  find  myself  in  one  after  all, 
— and  at  my  time  o'  life." 

The  girls  gasped  with  relief,  but  still  had  the 
strange  feeling  of  one  who  has  been  speeding 
over  the  water  with  all  sails  set  and  suddenly  finds 
herself  in  the  midst  of  a  dead  calm. 

"B-but,"  stammered  Amy,  voicing  the  general 
sentiment,  "we  thought — were  afraid — you  were 
hurt  badly " 

"Guess  maybe  I'd  have  thought  so,  too,  if  I'd 


THE   SHADOW   OF   MYSTERY  21 

had  the  chance,"  responded  the  surprising  old 
lady  ruefully.  "Pretty  well  mussed  up,  I  guess, 
and  stunned.  Shouldn't  wonder  if  I  found  a 
heap  o'  bruises  around  me  somewhere — but  no 
bones  broke.  You  see,"  she  added,  as  thougk 
imparting  a  great  secret,  "the  Sandersons'  bones 
jest  never  was  made  to  break.  Now,  there  was 
our  cousins — the  Petersons — they  was  different. 
One  o'  that  family  wouldn't  dare  waggle  his 
finger  too  hard  for  fear  it  would  bust  on  him. 
You  see,  they  was  just  naturally  made  that  way. 
My  son,  Willie,"  here  the  brave  voice  lowered  a 
trifle  and  tears  rose  to  the  bright  old  eyes,  "he 
used  to  call  them  in  fun — always  jokin',  that  boy 
was — the  Break-bone  Petersons." 

"But  are  you  sure  you  aren't  hurt?"  Betty  in- 
sisted, still  with  that  curious  feeling  of  having 
the  wind  taken  out  of  her  sails.  "You  see,"  she 
added  hastily,  as  the  twinkle  returned  to  the  old 
woman's  eyes,  "we  were  going  to  take  you  to  the 
hospital,  but  if  you  are  really  sure  there  are  no 
bones  broken,  I  think  you  would  like  the  Hostess 
House  better." 

"Hostess  House?"  repeated  the  old  woman,  her 
eyes  widening  with  interest.  "Yes,  I've  heard  a 
lot  about  those  phces.  That's  where  the  sweet- 
hearts and  mothers  and  wives  of  the  soldier  boys 
go,  isn't  it — to  meet  them ?" 


22    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Yes,"  Betty  responded  eagerly.  "You  see, 
that's  what  we  are  doing,  helping  to  make  them 
feel  at  home.  That's  why  we  want  you  to  come 
with  us  now  and  stay  there  until  you  feel  bet- 
ter." 

"But  I'm  not  a  mother,  or  a  wife,  or  a  sweet- 
heart of  any  of  those  boys,"  objected  the  little 
old  woman,  while  the  same  cloud  swept  over  her 
face,  leaving  it  wrinkled  and  old.  "I — I  might 
have  been — if — if — Willie " 

"But  that  doesn't  make  any  difference,"  Grace 
assured  her,  speaking  for  the  first  time  and  laying 
a  white,  soft  hand  over  the  knotted,  wrinkled  one. 
"We  want  you  to  stay  with  us  and  rest  while  we 
try  to  find  the  man  who  ran  you  down." 

"Oh,  him !"  cried  the  old  woman  scornfully,  all 
the  time  patting  Grace's  hand  with  gentle  fingers. 
"There's  no  use  wastin'  time  lookin'  for  him. 
He'll  make  pretty  sure  that  he  won't  be  seen  round 
these  parts  again — not  for  some  time,  anyway. 
But  you're  dear,  sweet  little  ladies,"  she  added, 
looking  from  Betty,  whose  arm  still  rested  about 
her  shoulders  to  Grace's  hand  in  hers  and  from 
them  to  the  two  girls  in  front.  "You're  awfully 
sweet  little  ladies,"  she  repeated,  while  the  quick 
tears  rose  to  her  eyes.  "I  don't  see  why  you're 
bein*  so  kind  to  me " 

"But  we  just  love  to  do  anything  we  can," 


THE   SHADOW   OF   MYSTERY  23 

broke  in  Betty  quickly,  for  the  Outdoor  Girls 
never  liked  to  be  thanked.  "And  we'd  like  so 
much  to  have  you  see  our  Hostess  House.  That 
is,  if  you'd  care  to,"  she  added,  suddenly  remem- 
bering that  the  old  woman  might  not  be  so  help- 
less and  alone  as  she  had  seemed — might  have 
made  some  other  plans.  But  the  latter  quickly 
reassured  her. 

"Oh,  I  would  like  to,  more  than  anything  else 
in  the  world,"  she  replied  eagerly,  then,  realizing 
that  her  fervor  might  astonish  the  girls,  added 
with  a  little  forced  laugh.  "You  see,  it's  a  weak- 
ness o'  mine.  Maybe  it's  because  I'm  getting  old 
— but,  the  soldier  boys — I  can't  seem  to  see 
enough  o'  them " 

"I  don't  think  it's  got  anything  to  do  with 
getting  old,"  Mollie  broke  in  irrepressibly,  "be- 
cause I  feel  just  that  way  about  it  myself.  The 
more  I  see,  the  more  I  want  to  see." 

The  woman's  eyes  twinkled  again.  She  was 
about  to  make  some  sort  of  comment,  but  at 
that  moment  Mollie  swung  the  car  into  the  street 
leading  to  the  Hostess  House,  and  the  girls  gave 
a  little  surprised  exclamation  at  finding  themselves 
so  nearly  there. 

A  few  minutes  later  they  were  ushering  their 
shabby  little  guest  into  the  comfortable  alcove 
off  the  main  reception  room  and  settling  her  so- 


24    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

licitously  in   one   of   the   cushion-filled   window 
seats. 

It  was  astonishing  to  see  how  quickly  their 
patient  had  recovered  from  the  accident.  She 
seemed  a  little  weak  and  unsteady  as  they  helped 
her  from  the  car,  but  going  up  the  steps  to  the 
Hostess  House  she  resolutely  refused  all  assist- 
ance and  mounted  the  porch  alone. 

"Isn't  she  a  darling?"  Mollie  had  whispered 
to  Grace  as  they  brought  up  the  rear.  "Did  you 
ever  see  anybody  of  her  age  so  full  of  life  and 
independence  ?" 

And  it  was  that  same  sturdy  independence  and 
humor  that  endeared  her  to  the  girls  in  the  days 
that  followed  and  made  them  willing  to  do  any- 
thing in  their  power  to  help  her. 

There  was  some  discussion  at  first  as  to  where 
they  could  put  their  unexpected  guest,  for  all  the 
rooms  were  full  and  a  couple  of  unused  emer- 
gency cots  seemed  to  be  all  the  extra  accommo- 
dations they  could  find. 

"I  have  it,"  cried  Betty  at  last,  with  one  of 
her  inspirations.  "Grace  and  I  will  give  up  our 
room  and  bunk  in  with  Amy  and  Mollie.  That's 
where  the  two  extra  cots  will  come  in  good." 

The  idea  was  applauded  enthusiastically,  and 
it  took  only  a  short  time  of  scurrying  about  to 
put  it  into  action. 


THE   SHADOW   OF   MYSTERY  25 

"But  one  thing  we  must  remember,"  Betty 
cautioned  the  others,  as  they  surveyed  their  work 
with  satisfaction.  "We  mustn't  let  our  old  lady 
guess  a  word  of  what  we've  been  doing." 

"Oh,  no,  we  mustn't,"  agreed  Amy  in  alarm. 
"She'd  be  just  as  apt  as  anything  to  put  on  her 
hat  and  leave  us  without  a  word." 

"You  know,  it  is  going  to  be  rather  close  quar- 
ters," sighed  Grace,  as  they  turned  to  leave  the 
room.  "We  won't  be  able  to  move  without  fall- 
ing over  somebody's  feet." 

"You  needn't  look  at  mine,"  Mollie  retorted 
with  spirit.  "Why  is  it  that  whenever  you  make 
a  disparaging  remark  you  never  fail  to  look  at 
me?" 

"That's  easy,"  Grace  returned  with  a  twinkle. 
"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  look  in  your  mir- 
ror  " 

"Oh  dear,  and  I  suggested  it,"  mourned  Betty, 
as  they  descended  the  stairs  arm  in  arm.  "We'll 
have  to  give  them  the  cots,  Amy;  it  would  be 
murderous  to  let  those  two  sleep  together." 

"Ah,  'tis  a  deep,  dark  plot,"  cried  Mollie,  stag- 
gering dramatically  and  almost  falling  down- 
stairs. "I  see  it  all — they  get  the  bed  while  we, 
poor  wretches  that  we  are,  toss  our  uneasy  bones 
upon  the  cot " 

Amy  screamed  and  Grace  covered  her  ears. 


26    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Goodness,  what  do  you  think  this  is — a 
ghost!s  retreat  ?"  demanded  the  latter,  while  Betty 
chuckled  joyfully.  "  'Toss  our  uneasy  bones,' 
indeed!" 

"Does  sound  kind  of  grizzly,  doesn't  it?" 
Mollie  admitted.  "Just  the  same,  I  wager  that's 
what  Betty  intended." 

"Mollie,  you  wrong  me !"  cried  Betty  in  dismay. 
"I  was  simply  trying  to  avoid  a  tragedy.  But, 
if  you're  going  to  toss  bones,  anyway,  you  might 
as  well  do  it  in  comfort ;  so " 

"Oh,  you  goose,"  cried  Mollie  affectionately, 
and  in  this  manner  they  entered  the  den  where 
Mrs.  Watson  was  entertaining,  or  being  enter- 
tained by,  the  little  old  woman. 

The  girls  immediately  took  possession  of  the 
latter  and  joyfully  escorted  her  to  the  upper  floor 
to  look  over  her  new  quarters. 

"My,  isn't  this  fine!"  exclaimed  the  guest,  her 
face  lighting  up  happily.  "A  beautiful  big  bed 
and  three  fine  windows  to  see  the  soldier  boys 
from.  Are  you  sure,"  she  added,  glancing  from 
one  to  the  other  of  the  four  eager  faces  suspi- 
ciously, "that  I'm  not  putting  you  out  ?  Because, 
if  I  am " 

"Why  of  course  you're  not,"  Betty  fibbed 
stoutly,  adding,  with  a  swift  change  of  subject: 
"But  I'm  sure  now  that  you  would  like  to  rest. 


THE   SHADOW   OF   MYSTERY  27 

Look,"  she  added,  with  quick  solicitude,  as  she 
saw  how  white  the  old  lady  had  become,  "your 
hands  are  trembling " 

"No,  no,  no,"  disclaimed  the  little  old  woman 
impatiently,  as  she  gazed  with  set  face  out  of 
the  window  that  faced  upon  the  parade.  "I'm  a 

little  cold.  And — that  boy "  She  pointed 

with  quivering  finger  at  a  sturdy,  khaki-clad 
figure,  swinging  happily  over  the  parade  in  the 
direction  of  the  mess-hall,  "He — he  reminded 
me " 

"Yes,"  they  cried,  crowding  about  her  solici- 
tously, while  Betty  pushed  a  chair  toward  the 
window  and  gently  forced  her  into  it. 

"He — he  was — just  like "  The  slight  form 

was  shaking  and  the  words  forced  themselves 
from  between  her  chattering  teeth,  "what  my 
Willie  boy  would  have  been  now — if  he  hadn't — 
run  away.  My  little  son !  My  baby  I" 


CHAPTER  IV 
MRS.  SANDERSON'S  STORY 

TEARS  were  not  only  in  her  eyes  now,  but  run- 
ning down  her  wrinkled  old  face,  and  the  girls, 
with  the  tears  of  real  pity  in  their  own  eyes, 
crowded  closer  about  her. 

"Would  it  help,"  Betty  suggested  gently,  "if 
you  told  us  about  it?" 

The  old  lady  drew  her  gaze  from  the  window 
and  let  it  rest  on  the  sweet,  sympathetic  young 
face,  and  she  nodded  slowly. 

"I  guess  maybe  it  would,"  she  agreed,  taking 
a  handkerchief  from  the  pocket  in  her  dress  and 
wiping  her  eyes.  "You  see,  I  never  have  told 
anybody  for  years  and  years,  and  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  this  war  I  suppose  I  should  have  gone 
right  on  not  telling  anybody  for  the  rest  of  my 
life.  Of  course  the  Yates  and  Baldwins  and  all 
the  folks  that  lived  around  us  knew  it,  so  there 

was  no  use  telling  them "  Her  voice  trailed 

off  and  her  eyes  sought  the  window  with  it* 


MRS.   SANDERSON'S  STORY  2$ 

vista  of  parade  ground  and  low,  roughly  built 
barracks  buildings. 

The  girls  looked  at  her.  Never  in  their  lives, 
they  thought,  had  they  been  so  thoroughly  inter- 
ested in  anything  as  they  were  in  the  secret  sorrow 
of  this  gentle  old  lady,  the  sorrow  that  brought 
that  strange  cloud  of  unhappiness  every  time  she 
mentioned  this  son  of  hers  who  had  run  away. 

"He  must  have  been  a  pretty  ungrateful  sort," 
thought  Mollie  resentfully,  "to  have  run  away 
from  a  mother  who  loved  him  like  that." 

Once  more  the  old  lady  drew  her  eyes  from  the 
window  and  fixed  them  on  the  circle  of  eager 
young  faces. 

"I  suppose  young  things  like  you  couldn't  be 
expected  to  understand,"  she  went  on,  "and  yet 
perhaps  you'll  be  interested  more  than  other  folks, 
'count  of  your  having  met  so  many  young  boys." 

"Oh,  we  are  interested,"  they  cried  in  chorus, 
at  which  the  old  woman's  face  lighted  up  and  she 
went  on  with  more  cheerfulness. 

"Well,  to  begin  with,"  she  said,  "we  lived  way 
at  t'other  end  o'  the  world.  Danestown,  it  was 
called,  and  my  husband — better  man  never 
breathed — died  when  my  little  boy  was  only  four 
years  old.  I  wasn't  so  young  any  more,  for  Willie 
was  the  youngest — the  others  had  all  died  when 
they  was  babies — and  Willie's  pa  and  me  was 


30    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

getting  along  in  years  when  he  come  to  us — the 
dearest,  sweetest,  prettiest  baby  you  ever  set  your 
eyes  on. 

"Well,  we  had  managed  to  save  some  little 
money,  though  'twasn't  over  much  at  best,  and 
with  me  workin'  on  the  farm  week  days  and 
Sundays,  we  managed  to  get  along  pretty  well. 

An'  I  was  savin'  pennies "  Here  the  old  voice 

trembled  and  nearly  broke,  so  that  it  was  some 
minutes  before  the  speaker  could  go  on. 

The  girls  tried  hard  to  think  of  something  to 
say,  but  as  everything  that  came  to  them  sounded 
flat  and  inappropriate,  they  kept  a  sympathetic 
silence — which  was  perhaps  the  best  they  could 
have  done,  after  all. 

"As  I  was  sayin',"  the  old  voice  continued  after 
a  while,  "I  was  squeezin'  every  little  penny  I 
could  from  the  bare  necessities  to  lay  aside  for 
the  boy.  You  see,  it  had  been  his  father's  wish 
that  Willie  should  be  given  the  chance  neither  of 
us  had  ever  had  to  get  some  schoolin*  and  have 
his  chance  in  the  world.  I  was  hopin'  that  by  the 
time  the  boy  grew  up  I  might  maybe  have  enough 
to  send  him  to  college. 

"Of  course,"  she  added,  with  an  air  of  apolo- 
gizing for  a  weakness  that  went  straight  to  the 
girls'  hearts,  "they  was  only  dreams.  But  I  don't 
see  as  there  was  any  harm  in  them,  seein's  I 


MRS.   SANDERSON'S  STORY  31 

always  kept  them  to  myself  an*  never  told  any- 
body 'bout  them — leastways,  no  one  but  Willie. 

"Sometimes,  on  a  winter  night  when  the  snow 
was  fallin'  outside  an'  the  wind  was  howlin*  round 
the  house,  I  used  to  draw  Willie  up  to  the  big, 
open  fireplace  we  had  in  the  kitchen  and  tell  him 
'bout  his  pa  an'  how  he  had  always  wished  for 
Willie  to  be  a  fine,  big  man. 

"An'  Willie,  he'd  listen  with  those  big,  earnest 
eyes  o'  his — such  beautiful  eyes  my  Willie 

had "  Again  the  voice  broke  and  trailed  off 

into  silence  while  the  girls  sat  and  waited  as 
before,  only  with  a  stronger  pity  in  their  hearts 
for  this  faithful  little  old  woman  who  had  loved 
so  well — and  lost. 

"An'  then,"  the  voice  continued,  more  softly 
and  dreamily  than  before,  my  little  boy  would 
reach  up  and  pat  my  cheek,  just  like  his  father 
used  to  do,  and  seems  like  I  can  hear  his  voice 
now,  just  as  plain  as  I  did  all  those  long,  long 
years  ago. 

"  'Maw,'  he'd  say,  drawlin'  a  little  in  his  cun- 
nin*  way,  'just  don't  you  worry.  I'll  do  all  those 
things,  jest  like  pa  said,  an*  then  we'll  go  an'  live 
in  a  big  house  an'  you  won't  have  to  work  so 
hard  any  more — jest  be  happy.' 

"An*  then  he'd  take  my  hand  that  was  coarse 
an'  rough  from  workin'  in  the  field  and  rub  his 


32    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

soft  little  cheek  against  it  an*  look  up  at  me,  an* 
just  smile " 

There  was  a  little  sob  from  the  spot  where 
Amy  was  sitting  cross-legged  on  the  floor,  while 
the  other  girls  were  frankly  and  openly  crying  and 
not  even  noticing  it. 

"He — he  must  have  been  a  darling!"  cried 
Betty,  unsteadily. 

"He  was,"  answered  the  old  lady  simply.  "It 
wasn't  very  long  after  that  he  ran  away,  and  I 
suppose" — again  her  eyes  sought  the  parade 
ground — "if  I  was  to  meet  him  now  I  maybe 
wouldn't  know  him.  You  see,  I'd  still  be  lookin' 
for  my  little  brown-eyed,  yellow-haired  Willie 
boy." 

"But  what  made  him  run  away?"  asked  Mollie, 
rubbing  her  eyes  furiously  with  her  handkerchief. 
"I  shouldn't  have  thought " 

"Neither  would  I,"  the  strange  little  woman 
interrupted  abruptly.  "If  he  hadn't  had  such  a 
high  spirit  he  never  would.  But — well,  seem  like 
I'm  gettin'  ahead  of  my  story. 

"You  see,  some  o'  the  neighbors'  children  was 
a  pretty  wild  lot  an'  they  always  had  a  grudge 
against  my  boy  'cause  he  wouldn't  join  them  in 
all  their  escapades. 

"You  see,  Willie  took  a  lot  after  his  father. 
He  used  to  just  like  to  sit  and  dream  and  read 


MRS.   SANDERSON'S  STORY  33 

books  you'd  thought  a  little  fellow  like  him 
couldn't  understand  at  all — he  was  just  twelve 
when  he  ran  away. 

"An*  o'  course  these  other  boys,  they  didn't 
like  him  'cause  he  was  different,  an'  they  was 
always  layin*  the  blame  for  all  their  pranks  on 
him. 

"But  my  Willie,  it  didn't  bother  him  much. 
He  used  to  tell  me  that  as  long  as  he  knew  he 
didn't  do  it  and  I  knew  it,  what  other  folks 
thought  wasn't  worth  worryin*  'bout — just  his 
pa  all  over. 

"Only,  I  remember  one  time,"  the  bent  old 
form  straightened  up  proudly  and  the  bright  old 
eyes  gleamed,  "when  the  other  boys  started 
pushin'  things  too  far  an'  begun  callin*  my  boy 
names — no  names  that  a  boy  with  any  pride  in 

him  would  stand  for I  heard  them — they 

was  jest  around  the  back  o'  the  house,  an'  I 
came  to  the  door  with  my  mad  up  to  the  boilin* 
point,  but  what  I  saw  made  me  stop  right  short 
an'  wait  for  what  I  knew  was  goin*  to  happen. 

"Willie,  he  was  sittin'  on  a  log  by  the  barn, 
jest  wrapped  up  in  a  new  book  he'd  found,  an*  it 
was  some  time  before  just  what  those  ragamuffins 
was  sayin*  seeped  in.  When  it  did  was  when  I 
came  to  the  door,  boilin'  with  rage. 

"Very  quiet,  but  with  a  sort  o'  bulldog  set  to 


34 


OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 


that  chin  o'  his,  just  like  his  pa,  he  closed  his 
book  an'  laid  it  down  beside  him. 

"  Til  be  askin'  you,'  he  said,  drawlin'  very 
marked  and  facin'  the  bully  o'  the  crowd  that 
was  at  least  two  or  three  years  older  than  he 
was — Til  be  askin'  you  to  say  what  you  been 
sayin'  all  over  again.' 

"The  bully  did,  with  trimmin's,  an'  Willie 
listened  without  turnin*  a  hair  till  he  got  all 
through. 

*  'Now,'  he  says,  more  quiet  than  ever — I  can 
see  him  now,  with  his  big  eyes  blazin'  black  out  o' 
his  white  face  and  his  little  hands  that  seemed 
to  me  scarce  more'n  a  baby's  clenched  tight  at  his 
side — 'Now,  I  guess,  I  got  to  lick  you !' 

"An' he  did!" 

"He  beat  him?"  cried  Mollie  excitedly.  "Oh, 
weren't  you  proud  ?" 

"I  guess  I  was !"  answered  the  little  old  woman, 
her  eyes  snapping  with  the  memory.  "That  was 
the  day  my  boy  showed  what  was  in  him,  an' 
after  that  the  other  boys  never  called  him  any 
more  names. 

"But,  o'  course,"  she  added,  while  the  old  cloud 
erased  the  glow  from  her  face,  "that  didn't  keep 
the  boys  from  wantin*  to  get  even. 

"Well,  then  came  the  awful  day  when  Abner 
Conway's  barn  burned  an'  Abner  himself  came 


MRS.   SANDERSON'S   STORY  35 

over  to  accuse  my  Willie  of  havin'  started  the  fire, 
bringin'  with  him  two  or  three  o'  the  boys  who 
had  tried  to  call  Willie  names  to  swear  they'd 
seen  him  do  it. 

"O'  course  Willie  denied  it  an'  I  backed  him 
tip  by  sayin' — an'  there  never  was  truer  word 
spoken — that  Willie  was  with  me  before  an*  at 
the  time  the  barn  took  fire. 

"But  it  didn't  do  any  good.  Abner  was  ragin* 
because  it  meant  considerable  loss  to  him,  an'  so 
much  blame  had  been  laid  at  Willie's  door  by  the 
other  boys  that  he  declared  this  time  he  was  goin' 
to  have  him  punished. 

"  Til  have  the  law  on  him !'  he  shouted,  ram- 
pagin'  round  my  kitchen  like  a  wild  animal.  Til 
show  that  boy  o'  yours  if  he  can  go  round  settin' 
folks'  barns  on  fire  an'  not  get  come  up  with !  I'll 
give  him  a  taste  o'  what  it  feels  like  to  be  behind 
bars.  It's  time  somethin*  was  done,  an',  by  Jerry, 
I'm  the  one  to  do  it !' 

"An'  without  another  word  he  slammed  out 
with  those  grinnin*  imps  that  was  makin'  all  the 
trouble  followin'  at  his  heels.  Well,  there  isn't 
very  much  more  to  tell." 

Here  she  paused,  the  animation  left  her  face 
and  she  looked  pityfully  old  and  weary.  Betty 
reached  over  and  patted  her  hand,  and  finally  she 
resumed  her  story. 


36    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Abner  kept  his  word  and  brought  the  sheriff 
around  that  same  afternoon,  but  they  couldn't 
find  Willie — he  was  gone.  He'd  left  a  note  for 
me — full  o'  love — but  sayin'  that  he  couldn't  bear 
to  bring  disgrace  on  me  an'  so  he'd  gone  away. 
When  he'd  done  what  his  pa  wanted  him  to,  he 
said,  he'd  come  back  an'  then  we  could  live  in 
the  big  house  an'  be  happy. 

"An'  from  that  day  to  this,  I've  never  heard  a 
word  from  my  little  boy." 

"Oh,"  cried  Betty,  pityingly,  "what  a  terrible 
thing !  I  should  think  he  could  have  written.  But 
maybe  he  did,  and  his  letters  never  reached  you." 

"That  old  Abner  must  have  been  a  beast,"  cried 
Mollie,  clenching  her  hands  belligerently.  "And 
those  boys !  Wouldn't  I  like  to  put  them  behind 
the  bars?" 

"You  see,"  the  old  lady  went  on  tonelessly,  "it 
was  only  a  little  while  after  Willie  ran  away  that 
they  found  out  that  tramps  started  the  fire.  Of 
course  Abner  was  sorry  then,  but  it  was  too  late. 
My  boy  was  gone." 

"But  you'll  find  him  yet,"  cried  Betty  hope- 
fully, springing  to  her  feet.  "I'm  quite  sure  you 
will." 

But  the  old  lady  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"I  don't  think  so,  my  dear,"  she  said  slowly. 
"If  my  Willie  boy  had  been  alive  I'm  sure  he 


MRS.   SANDERSON'S  STORY  37 

would  have  come  to  me.    He's — he's — almost  cer- 
tain— to  be — dead." 

The  girls  tried  to  comfort  the  little  old  woman 
for  a  few  minutes  more,  then  had  to  hurry  away 
to  various  duties  about  the  Hostess  House — Mol- 
lie  to  help  a  young  Polish  boy  who  had  been  draft- 
ed into  the  army  and  who  was  struggling  valiantly 
and  conscientiously  to  learn  English,  Grace  to 
write  a  letter  for  a  Southern  mountain  boy  who 
had  never  learned  to  read  and  write,  and  Amy  and 
Betty  to  help  a  timid  and  somewhat  helpless 
mother  through  the  long  hours  of  waiting  before 
she  could  have  a  brief  visit  with  her  son  during 
his  time  of  relief  from  duty. 


CHAPTER  V 

FUN   AND   SOLDIERS 

"I  WISH  we  could  do  something  for  Mrs.  San- 
derson," Betty  remarked  with  a.  sigh.  "I  haven't 
slept  a  wink  for  two  nights  just  trying  to  think 
out  some  way  of  finding  that  boy  of  hers." 

"He  must  have  been  a  darling,"  Grace  added 
thoughtfully.  "I  can't  understand  how  a  boy  like 
that  could  run  away  from  home  and  stay  away 
for  years  without  even  trying  to  get  in  touch  with 
his  mother." 

"Maybe  that  charge  changed  his  character," 
Mollie  suggested  dramatically.  "I've  heard  of 
such  things." 

"I've  read  of  'em,"  sniffed  Grace.  "But  I 
must  say  I  never  believed  it.  Give  a  boy  the 
right  sort  of  character  to  start  with " 

"I  don't  see  where  you  get  that,"  Mollie  inter- 
rupted hotly.  "Why,  half  the  criminals  in  the 
world  are  made  up  of  boys  who  were  good  enough 
to  start  with,  but  because  of  some  temptation,  or 

their  environment,  went  wrong " 

38 


FUN  AND  SOLDIERS  39 

"But  Mrs.  Sanderson's  Willie  wasn't  a  crimi- 
nal," suggested  Amy  mildly. 

"But  he  was  accused  of  being  one  and  threat- 
ened with  jail,"  retorted  Mollie.  "And  how  do 
you  know  that  wasn't  just  what  he  needed  to  start 
him  on  the  downward  path " 

"Heavens,  how  melodramatic,"  drawled  Grace. 
"Here,  Mollie  dear,  have  a  candy  and  try  to 
cheer  up." 

"Then  I'd  have  indigestion  and  never  cheer  up," 
retorted  Mollie  crossly.  "Sometimes  you  make 
me  feel  as  if  I  were  on  a  little  island  completely 
surrounded  by  chocolates,  Grace,  and  whenever 
anything  bothered  me  I'd  only  have  to  eat  one — 
a  chocolate,  I  mean,  not  the  island — to  forget  all 
my  troubles." 

"Oh,  bliss,"  sighed  Grace  ecstatically.  "If  you 
have  discovered  any  such  wonderful  island,  Mol- 
lie darling,  lead  me  to  it,  and  I  will  spend  all  the 
rest  of  my  life  worshipping  you." 

"When  you're  not  too  busy  gobbling  the  choco- 
lates," Mollie  returned  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

"Which  reminds  me,"  broke  in  Betty,  shaking 
off  the  thoughtful  mood  that  had  taken  possession 
of  her,  "that  this  is  the  day  of  our  picnic,  and  if 
we  don't  get  back  to  the  Hostess  House  pretty 
soon  the  boys  will  be  there  before  we  have  even 
made  a  sandwich." 


40    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Goodness,"  cried  Mollie  in  consternation,  "all 
this  talk  about  criminals  put  the  boys  entirely  out 
of  my  head." 

"I  should  hope  so,"  twinkled  Betty.  "Our  boys 
are  as  little  apt  to  remind  us  of  criminals  as  any- 
body I  know.  But  seriously,"  she  added,  a  little 
of  the  thoughtfulness  returning,  "I  think  we're 
making  a  mistake  in  thinking  that  Willie  Sander- 
son has  become  a  criminal.  I  think  there  is  prob- 
ably some  satisfactory  explanation  of  why  he 
stayed  away  from  home;  and  perhaps  with  the 
help  of  the  people  we  know  we  may  be  able  to 
solve  the  mystery.  Anyway,  I  don't  believe  that 
a  boy  like  that  and  with  a  mother  like  this  dear 
old  soul  could  turn  out  very  badly." 

"But  suppose  he's  dead !"  Mollie  put  in. 

"Well,  then  our  days  of  detectivities  will  be 
over  as  far  as  he's  concerned,"  put  in  Grace  before 
Betty  could  reply.  "Here,  Mollie,  take  another 
chocolate  and  don't  ask  foolish  questions." 

"Goodness,  I  think  you're  going  to  die,  Grade," 
said  Mollie,  looking  her  friend  over  anxiously. 
"This  is  the  first  time  since  the  fateful  day  of 
our  meeting  that  I  can  remember  your  offering, 
actually  offering,  me  two  chocolates  in  succes- 
sion." 

"It  isn't  the  first  time  you've  taken  them, 
though,"  suggested  Grace  dryly.  "It  just  oc- 


FUN  AND   SOLDIERS  41 

curred  to  me  that  since  you  will  take  them  any- 
way, I  might  as  well  get  the  credit  of  offering 
them." 

"Ah,  I  guessed  it,  villainness,"  cried  Mollie 
darkly.  "I  have  long  suspected  that  that  lovely 
face  hid  a  soul  of  venom — I  should  say,  a  venom- 
ous soul " 

The  girls  chuckled  and  Grace  answered  lightly : 

"Well,  as  long  as  you  admit  my  beauty  I  don't 
care  what  you  say  about  the  rest." 

"Ah,  heartless  one "  Mollie  was  beginning, 

•\vhen  with  a  laugh  Betty  hooked  an  arm  through 
hers  and  hustled  the  dramatic  one  in  very  un- 
dramatic  fashion,  up  the  steps  into  the  Hostess 
House. 

"Oh,  Betty,  you  are  so  impulsive,"  sighed  Mol- 
lie, as  she  was  finally  permitted  a  chair  in  the 
kitchen.  "If  you  don't  stop  rushing  around  so 
you'll  have  me  worn  to  skin  and  bones " 

"Goodness,  have  you  got  those  things,  too?" 
asked  Betty,  as  she  hurried  busily  from  table  to 
pantry  and  back  again.  "Please  don't  be  so  lazy, 
Mollie  dear.  The  boys  will  be  here  before  we're 
half  ready,  and  we  don't  want  to  lose  a  minute  of 
this  perfect  day." 

Harder  heart  than  Mollie's  must  have  softened 
at  this  appeal,  and  she  set  to  work  with  a  will 
preparing  delicacies  for  this  picnic  with  the  boys 


42    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

— perhaps  the  thought  was  accompanied  by  a 
strange,  panicky  sinking  of  the  heart — the  very 
last  picnic  they  would  have  together,  at  least  until 
after  the  war. 

"Did  Allen  have  any  more  news  for  you,  yes- 
terday ?"  Mollie  asked  suddenly,  following  up  this 
train  of  thought. 

"No,  nothing  definite,"  the  Little  Captain  re- 
sponded, deftly  slipping  currant  jelly  into  layers 
of  buttered  biscuit.  "Of  course,  he  said  there 
were  all  sorts  of  rumors,  but  since  they  all  came 
from  equally  good  sources  and  no  two  of  them 
pointed  the  same  way,  he  wasn't  listening  to  any 
of  them.  All  they  really  know  is  that  the  regi- 
ment is  all  ready  and  equipped  and  will  surely 
be  on  its  way  very  soon." 

"I'm  not  even  thinking  of  it,"  said  Mollie, 
slamming  down  the  cover  of  the  bread  box  by  way 
of  emphasis,  as  Amy  and  Grace  came  upon  the 
scene.  "I  don't  dare  to  let  myself  think,"  she 
repeated. 

"That's  right,  dear,  I  wouldn't  either,"  ap- 
proved Grace,  patting  her  encouragingly  on  the 
back  as  she  passed  on  her  way  to  the  pantry. 
"You  want  to  get  your  mind  used  to  it  by  degrees, 
otherwise  the  shock  might  be  too  great.  What's 
that,  Betty — the  sugar?  Surely.  Anything  to  be 
agreeable !" 


PUN  AND  SOLDIERS  43 

The  last  hamper  had  just  been  done  up,  filled 
to  the  brim,  with  good  things,  when  the  boys  ar- 
rived. 

"Heavens,  I'm  a  fright,"  cried  Grace,  viewing 
herself  in  the  kitchen  mirror — a  mirror,  by  the 
way,  which  brought  out  all  a  person's  bad  points 
with  Puritan  honesty. 

"Go  in  and  keep  the  boys  quiet,  Amy,  that's  a 
dear,"  she  begged,  then,  seeing  refusal  in  Amy's 
eyes,  added  cajolingly:  "You  always  look  as  if 
you  came  out  of  a  bandbox  yourself,  you  know. 
Please,  dear " 

But  Amy  was  already  half  way  up  the  back- 
stairs and  paused  to  make  a  face  at  her. 

"Taffy!"  she  cried  succinctly. 

Five  minutes  later  the  three  girls,  in  various 
attitudes  of  impatience,  were  waiting  for  Grace 
while  she  still  primped  before  the  mirror. 

"Just  one  minute  more  I  give  you,"  stated  Mol- 
lie,  regarding  her  wrist  watch  frowningly. 

"Oh,  Mollie,  if  you  only  wouldn't  talk  so 
much,"  sighed  Grace,  turning  with  an  air  of  resig- 
nation from  the  mirror.  "As  soon  as  you  begin 
to  talk  everything  goes  wrong.  My  gloves  walk 
under  the  bed,  and  my  hair  stands  on  end " 

"Goodness,"  cried  Mollie,  looking  injured, 
"anybody'd  think  I  was  a  ghost.  I'll  stand  for 
being  called  lots  of  things,  but  a  phantom — Ouch ! 


44    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Now  what's  the  idea?"  For  Grace's  thumb  and 
forefinger  had  come  together  in  the  fleshy  part 
of  her  arm. 

"I  was  just  trying  to  reassure  you,"  explained 
Grace  innocently,  as  Mollie  stared  indignantly. 
"There's  nothing  the  least  bit  ethereal " 

But  Mollie  waited  to  hear  no  more,  and  sped 
down  the  stairs  after  Betty  to  bounce  uncere- 
moniously in  upon  the  boys. 

"Beware!"  she  cried.  "A  lunatic  is  about  to 
descend  upon  us !" 

"I  should  say  one  had  already,"  grinned  Allen, 
at  which  Mollie  surrendered. 

"Everybody's  against  me,"  she  sighed.  "When 
one  whom  I  have  always  called  my  friend,  turns 
agin  me Never  mind,"  she  added  diplomat- 
ically, "I  made  the  layer  cake,  Allen  Wash- 
burn " 

*  "Oh,  Mollie,  let  me  carry  your  pocketbook," 
begged  Allen  in  alarm. 

"How  do  I  know  you're  honest?"  she  retorted 
with  a  twinkle,  and  peace  was  once  more  re- 
stored. 

The  young  folks  paired  off  as  usual,  and  Allen 
drew  Betty  a  little  behind  the  others.  The  two 
formed  so  handsome  a  couple  that  many  a  passer- 
by stopped  and  looked  back  after  them  with  an 
admiring  smile. 


FUN  AND   SOLDIERS  45 

The  camp  training  had  improved  Allen  won- 
derfully. Always  splendidly  athletic,  he  carried 
himself  with  a  poise  and  moved  with  a  swing  that 
spoke  of  perfectly  trained  muscles,  while  his 
handsome  face  had  been  tanned  to  the  color  of 
an  Indian's. 

No  wonder  that  when  Allen  bent  toward  her 
and  spoke  in  a  certain  tone  reserved  for  her 
alone,  Betty  found  it  hard  to  look  at  this  tall, 
bronzed  soldier  who  had  been  her  faithful  cava- 
lier for — oh,  she  could  not  remember  how  long. 

"I  haven't  seen  you  for  ages,"  he  murmured, 
and  she  glanced  sideways  at  him,  dimpling. 

"Not  for  twenty-four  whole  hours,"  she 
agreed  soberly.  "Wasn't  it  this  time  yester- 
day  " 

"What  has  yesterday  to  do  with  it?"  he  inter- 
rupted ardently.  "I  tell  you  when  a  fellow's  to 
be  parted  from  the  thing  he  wants  most  in  the 
world  every  twenty- four  hours  count— — " 

"Allen!"  she  cried,  turning  upon  him  in  swift 
alarm,  "is  it  settled  then  ?  Have  you  learned  any- 
thing definite?" 

He  shook  his  head,  while  his  laughing  eyes  said 
things  that  made  her  turn  her  own  away. 

"Then  why,"  she  asked,  with  a  little  pout,  "do 
you  have  to  scare  me  so?" 

"Because,"  he  answered  happily,  "there's  noth- 


46    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

ing  I  like  better  than  to  see  you  scared — about 
that,"  he  added  quickly,  as  she  turned  an  indig- 
nant glance  upon  him. 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  anger  were  there 
to  stay,  but  it  was  impossible  to  be  very  angry 
with  Allen — when  he  looked  at  one  like  that.  At 
least  Betty  thought  so. 

"You'd  better  be  careful,"  she  said  with  a  soft 
little  laugh.  "If  you  try  that  too  much,  I  may  not 
believe  you  when  the  real  time  comes." 

"Betty,"  he  cried  fervently,  "I  won't  ever  do 
it  again — I  promise  you.  At  least,"  he  added, 
straightening  up,  while  in  his  eyes  grew  a  great 
resolve,  "not  until — that  real  time  comes ! 

"But  what  have  you  girls  been  doing  this 
morning?"  he  went  on,  after  a  pause. 

The  girl  gave  an  amused  but  sympathetic 
laugh  before  she  answered.  Then  she  said : 

"Mollie  and  I  have  been  trying  to  keep  the 
hearts  of  three  of  those  recruits  that  came  in 
yesterday  from  breaking  outright.  Poor  boys, 
they're  awfully  young — I  believe  they  fibbed 
about  their  ages — and  look  like  cherubs.  None 
of  them  has  ever  been  away  from  home  before, 
and  they  are  pathetically  homesick.  But  they  have 
told  us  about  their  homes  and  their  mothers  and 
fathers  and  the  little  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
Mollie  has  joked  with  them  and Well,  any- 


FUN  AND   SOLDIERS  47 

way,  Allen,  I  believe  we  have  made  them  feel 
that  they  are  not  wholly  friendless." 

"I'm  sure  you  have,  Betty  dear." 

"Poor  boys,"  went  on  Betty.  "I  presume  it 
will  get  easier  as  they  get  used  to  it. 

"Grace  has  been  writing  letters  for  some  of  the 
boys  who  find  it  hard  to  do  that.  Grace  is  awfully 
good  at  that.  And  Amy,  I  believe,  has  been  show- 
ing some  girls  who  came  down  to  see  their 
brother,  about  the  place  and  trying  to  keep  them 
interested  during  the  long  waits  between  the  times 
they  can  see  the  boy,  who,  like  his  sisters,  is  al- 
most too  timid  to  look  out  for  himself." 

Admiration  shone  in  Allen  Washburn's  eyes  as 
he  looked  at  the  Little  Captain  and  remarked : 

"What  lucky  people  those  Y.  W.  C.  A.  officials 
were  to  get  you  girls  down  here  for  this  Hostess 
House !  But  come,  Betty,  the  others  are  beckon- 
ing to  us." 


CHAPTER  VI 

PLANNING  CAPTURE 

THE  spot  they  had  chosen  for  the  picnic  was 
quite  a  distance  away  from  Camp  Liberty,  and 
by  the  time  the  party  finally  reached  it,  both  boys 
and  girls  were  wondering  if  the  generous  con- 
tents of  the  hampers  would  serve  even  to  take  the 
edge  off  their  appetites. 

"I  don't  see  why  we  didn't  take  your  car,  Mol- 
lie,"  Grace  complained,  as  they  covered  the  last 
stretch  of  dusty  road.  "We  would  have  been 
on  the  picnic  grounds  and  had  our  Hunch  eaten 
bv  this  time." 

"But  just  think  what's  in  store  for  us,"  Betty 
reminded  her  cheerily.  "We  need  a  good  appe- 
tite to  eat  up  all  this  lunch." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  Grace  grumbled  back. 
"It  seems  to  me  I  had  a  good  enough  appetite  for 
two  lunches,  each  twice  as  big  as  this,  when  we 
Parted." 

"Heavens !"  cried  Frank  Haley,  who  was  walk- 
48 


PLANNING  CAPTURE  49 

ing  in  front  with  Mollie,  "I  see  my  chances  of  a 
square  meal  dwindling." 

"I'm  beginning  to  agree  with  Grace,"  grinned 
Roy  Anderson,  "that  we  made  a  big  mistake  in 
not  taking  the  car." 

"Oh,  you're  all  just  lazy,"  was  Mollie's  accu- 
sation. "We  haven't  been  walking  more  than  an 
hour  and  there's  the  spot,  just  around  that  turn 
in  the  road." 

"Say,"  and  Will,  who  had  not  yet  spoken, 
turned  suddenly  to  Betty,  "isn't  this  the  road 
where  the  accident  happened  that  introduced  that 
nice  little  old  woman — what's  her  name " 

"Mrs.  Sanderson,"  Betty  supplied. 

"Yes,  that's  it.  Isn't  this  about  the  place  where 
you  found  her?" 

"Goodness,  no,"  put  in  Amy.  "It  was  on  this 
road,  but  we  were  miles  out  of  town." 

"Will,  I'd  love  you  all  the  rest  of  my  life  if 
you'd  only  find  that  motorcyclist  and  have  him 
punished,"  said  Betty  fervently.  "It  makes  me 
wild  when  I  think  how  easily  he  got  away  from 
us " 

"Never  mind  that,"  interrupted  Will,  his  eyes 
twinkling.  "All  I  want  is  to  have  you  repeat  the 
first  part  of  your  speech.  What  was  that  about 
loving  me  all  the  rest  of  my  life?" 

"Say,  what's  the  idea?"  demanded  Allen  sud- 


50    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE- 

denly,  having  been  engrossed  in  a  little  dream  all 
his  own.  "What  kind  of  rash  promises  are  you 
asking  Betty  to  make?" 

"Well,  I  would,"  contended  Betty  stoutly,  add- 
ing with  a  twinkle :  "Like  a  sister." 

"Oh,"  said  Will,  turning  disappointedly  away. 
"If  that's  all  you  have  to  offer  me— 

"But  I've  got  lots  more  than  that,"  Betty  as- 
sured him  quickly.  "Why,  Will,  if  you're  real 
good,  I  may  even  give  you  an  extra  piece  of 
cake." 

"Well,  now,  that's  different  again,"  cried  Will, 
his  interest  rekindling. 

"Will,"  remonstrated  Grace  plaintively,  "I'm 
surprised  at  you.  You  are  really  getting  shock- 
ingly material." 

"Getting !"  interjected  Frank,  with  a  grin. 

"Go  on,  Betty,  never  mind  this  vulgar  rabble — 
with  apologies  to  you,  sweet  sister,"  as  Grace  shot 
an  indignant  glance  at  him.  "You  were  saying 
that  if  I  found  this  motorcyclist  you'd  give  me 
an  extra  piece  of  cake,  or  words  to  that  effect. 
Am  I  right?" 

"Perfectly,"  laughed  Betty,  then  added,  seri- 
ously :  "But,  really,  I  think  something  ought  to  be 
done." 

"So  do  I,"  Amy  backed  her  up  stoutly.  "We 
ought  to  let  those  old  motorcyclists  know  they 


PLANNING   CAPTURE  51 

can't  run  over  poor  old  ladies  whenever  they  feel 
like  it " 

"Favorite  outdoor  sports,"  murmured  Roy. 

"It  was  the  most  heartless  thing  I  ever  saw," 
said  Mollie,  entering  into  the  discussion  with  a 
will.  "He  never  even  stopped  to  find  out  what 
damage  had  been  done.  He  might  have  killed 
her " 

"But  what  wouldst  thee,  sweet  damsel  ?"  asked 
Will  patiently.  "We  can  hardly  go  out  on  the 
broad  highway  and  hold  up  every  motorcyclist 
that  comes  along— 

"Well,  I  know  what  you  could  do,"  said  Grace, 
with  unusual  animation.  "You  could  take  one  of 
us  along  to  point  out  the  suspicious  characters." 

"Yes,  we  got  a  fine  view  of  him,"  added  Amy 
eagerly.  "He  had  small  eyes  close  together " 

"Regular  villain  type,"  murmured  Frank,  but 
Amy  refused  to  be  side-tracked. 

"And  goggles " 

"They  all  have  those,"  interrupted  Roy. 

"And  a  tiny  little  mustache  that  looked  as  if  it 
had  got  there  by  mistake." 

"Probably  false,"  suggested  Will.  "One  of 
the  kind  you  stick  on  with  molasses — like  feath- 
ers  " 

"Oh,  do  be  sensible,"  cried  Mollie  impatiently. 
"Of  course  you  can't  go  holding  him  up  at  the 


52    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

point  of  a  gun,   but  there  ought  to  be  some- 
thing  " 

"Give  us  time,  give  us  time,"  Allen  interrupted. 
"Wasn't  it  Antony  who  had  time  and  conquered, 
or  something  like  that " 

"Goodness,  anybody'd  know  you'd  been  out  of 
school  a  long  time,"  drawled  Grace  scathingly. 
"Mark  Antony,  indeed!" 

"Well,  it  was  one  of  those  guys,  anyway," 
maintained  Allen,  with  admirable  impartiality. 
"And  you  have  to  admit  the  sentiment  was  fine. 
All  we  ask  is  time " 

"And  a  little  grub,"  supplemented  Will  hun- 
grily. "It  seems  to  me  I  remember  somebody 
saying  a  couple  of  hours  ago  that  we  were  even 
then  approaching  our  destination,  and  we  seem  to 
be  getting  no  nearer  rapidly " 

"Oh,  do  try  to  be  sensible,"  cried  Mollie,  for 
the  second  time.  "If  you  would  only  have  some 
patience " 

"Never  heard  the  word,"  declared  Will  with  a 
grin,  and  Mollie  made  a  face  at  him — a  very  dis- 
respectful face. 

"Well,    but    when "    Will    was    insisting 

plaintively  when  Betty  interrupted  him  with  a  cry 
of  delight. 

"Look,  people,"  she  said,  breaking  away  from 
them  and  running  up  the  rather  steep  bank  lightly. 


PLANNING   CAPTURE  53 

"This  isn't  the  spot  we  picked  out,  but  it's  twice 
as  pretty.  Big  rocks  for  tables — and  every- 
thing." ' 

"Especially  everything,"  commented  Allen,  his 
eyes  twinkling. 

"Oh,  boy !"  cried  Roy  ecstatically,  setting  down 
the  hamper  that  had  been  his  share  and  beginning 
to  examine  its  contents  without  further  de- 
lay. "Chicken!  Ham  sandwiches!  Biscuits! 

Jelly " 

"Say,  get  out  of  that !"  cried  Frank,  snatching 
the  hamper  away  with  a  vigor  born  of  fear. 
"What  kind  of  manners  do  you  call  that?" 

"They're  as  good  as  yours,"  retorted  the  out- 
raged Roy  hotly.  "Besides,  there's  another  ham- 
per, isn't  there?" 

"Goodness,  they  seem  to  think  they  can  have 
a  whole  basket  apiece,"  cried  Amy  Black  ford  in 
dismay. 

"Well,  I  guess  they've  got  another  think  com- 
ing," said  Allen,  inelegantly,  placing  himself  with 
outstretched  arms  before  the  two  precious  ham- 
pers as  though  he  were  guarding  a  gold  mine. 
"Now  let  him  come  who  dares.  Only  over  my 
dead  body " 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  of  spoiling  our  perfectly 
good  party,"  complained  Grace.  "Can't  we  ever 
begin  to  enjoy  ourselves  but  what  somebody  starts 


54    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

taking  all  the  joy  out  of  life  by  talking  about  kill- 
ing somebody,  or  something " 

"Never  mind,  Grade,"  Frank  soothed  her,  nib- 
bling a  chicken  bone  with  great  relish.  "You'll 
get  over  it.  It  may  take  time " 

"Silence,"  commanded  Mollie,  raising  a  pickle 
fork  threateningly.  "Else  in  a  twinkling  I  will 
split  thee  to  the  heart " 

"Goodness,  she's  got  it,  too,"  sighed  Grace 
drawlingly. 

"What?"  asked  Mollie  briskly,  "I'm  always  in- 
terested in  my  symptoms " 

"It  isn't  a  disease,  you  goose,"  drawled  Grace. 
"Unless,"  she  added,  as  a  second  thought,  "you 
can  call  insanity  a  disease " 

"Well,  yoji  ought  to  know,"  retorted  Mollie,  as 
she  proceeded  to  use  the  pickle  fork  to  advan- 
tage. "What  does  your  doctor  say?" 

"Now  who's  bringing  war  into  the  party,  I'd 
like  to  know  ?"  asked  Will,  helping  himself  to  his 
ninth  biscuit. 

"Goodness,  that's  just  the  usual  thing,"  Betty 
explained,  looking  prettier,  so  Allen  thought,  than 
ever  before  with  the  background  of  lacy  green  to 
set  off  her  bright  coloring.  "If  they  don't  be- 
have like  that  we  know  they're  sick  or  something. 
Do  have  another  biscuit,  Roy.  Goodness,"  and 
she  stared  round-eyed  down  into  the  empty  space 


PLANNING   CAPTURE  55 

where  the  biscuits  had  been,  "they're  every  one 
gone!  Who  did  eat  them  all?" 

"Well,  you  needn't  look  at  me,"  said  Frank  \r\ 
an  aggrieved  tone.  "Will's  the  fellow  you've  got 
to  watch." 

Will  was  about  to  utter  some  scathing  retort 
when  Grace,  who  had  gotten  up  to  shake  the 
crumbs  from  her  dress  and  had  walked  down  to- 
ward the  road,  suddenly  called  to  them.  It  was 
such  an  excited,  urgent  call  that  they  left  every- 
thing and  came  running. 

"What "  began  Betty. 

"It  was  the  motorcyclist !"  cried  Grace,  her  face 
flaming.  "I  couldn't  have  been  mistaken,  because 
I  caught  a  good  view  of  his  face." 

"But  what  was  he  doing  back  here  ?"  demanded 
Amy,  while  the  rest  stared  at  Grace  excitedly. 
"That's  only  a  rutty  old  wagon  road,  and " 

"Well,  he  was  bumping  and  bouncing  like 
everything,  and  when  he  caught  sight  of  me  he 
sent  his  machine  ahead  so  fast  I  thought  surely 
he'd  have  a  smash-up." 

"Wish  he  had,"  said  gentle  Amy,  and  at  the 
unusually  vindictive  expression  on  her  face  the 
others  had  to  laugh. 

"Well,  there's  nothing  more  we  can  do  now," 
said  Frank  practically.  "Let's  go  back  and  finish 
our  lunch.  Probably,"  he  added,  as  they  thought- 


56    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

fully  retraced  their  steps,  "he  took  the  wagon  road 
for  fear  of  running  into  one  of  you  girls." 

"Big  coward!"  cried  Betty,  with  clenched 
hands.  "I  wish  I  had  been  with  you,  Grace,  we 
might  have  stopped  him." 

The  boys  shouted. 

"Such  a  chance !"  crowed  Roy,  but  Betty  turned 
on  them  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Well,  we  might  at  least  have  tried,"  she  cried 
hotly.  "That  is  more  than  you  boys  would  have 
done.  You  don't  seem  to  be  even  interested,"  she 
continued  indignantly.  "If  I  were  a  man  in  uni- 
form I'd  show  that  coward  that  he  can't  knock 
old  helpless  women  down  and  then  run  away.  I'd 
show  him  that  in  insulting  an  old  woman  he  was 
insulting  the  whole  United  States  army " 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Will  irrepressibly,  jumping 
to  his  feet.  "Now  you're  talking,  Betty.  How 
about  it,  fellows?  Shall  we  do  as  she  says?" 

"You  bet  we  will !"  they  cried,  and  at  the  ring 
in  their  voices,  even  Betty's  ardent  little  heart  was 
satisfied. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    LARK   IN   THE   OPEN 

"WELL,  where  do  we  go  from  here,  boys?" 
asked  Allen,  lazily  stretching  out  on  the  grass 
with  a  convenient,  raised  bank  of  moss  for  a  pil- 
low, while  the  girls  repacked  the  depleted  ham- 
pers. "It's  such  a  wonderful  day,  and  camp  was 
never  like  this." 

"Tell  us  something  we  don't  know,"  Frank  re- 
torted. "Gee,  it's  been  a  fine  experience  and  all, 
but,  believe  me,  I'll  be  glad  when  the  call  comes 
for  action." 

"They're  off  again,"  said  Grace  plaintively. 

"I  must  say  you're  not  awfully  complimentary," 
added  Mollie,  busily  folding  napkins. 

"In  what  way,  sweet  maid,  do  we  offend  ?"  Will 
inquired. 

"Oh,  always  talking  about  how  glad  you'll  be 
to  get  away  from  us,"  she  explained.  "Here  we 
thought  we'd  been  entertaining  you  so  beauti- 
fully  » 

"Gee,  you  have !"  cried  Roy,  propping  himself 
57 


58    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

on  his  elbow  and  speaking  with  unaccustomed  sol- 
emnity. "It's  been  just  great,  having  you  girls 
here." 

"It  certainly  has,"  added  Frank.  "I  guess  we'd 
have  gone  clean  crazy  because  of  homesickness  if 
you  hadn't  come  along  just  when  you  did." 

"Now  you're  saying  something,"  added  Allen 
warmly,  while  the  girls  stopped  packing  and 
looked  on  happily.  "Do  you  remember  what  we 
were  talking  about  that  day  when  we  almost " 

"Ran  into  what  we  were  talking  about?"  fin- 
ished Frank  with  a  grin.  "You  bet  I  do." 

"Well,  what  was  it?"  drawled  Grace,  after  they 
had  waited  patiently  for  the  boys  to  continue  and 
the  latter  had  smiled  aggravatingly  to  themselves 
over  their  thoughts. 

"If  it's  bad,"  added  Mollie  briskly,  "we  don't 
want  to  hear  it,  for,  as  the  old  lady  said  that  used 
to  come  to  see  Mother  regularly  once  a  year,  *I 
don't  care  what  terrible  things  people  say  or  think 
about  me,  if  they  don't  tell  me  about  it.'  But  if 
it's  good — we  might  stand  it." 

"Oh,  it  was  good  all  right,"  Frank  assured  her, 
still  smiling  over  his  thoughts.  "We  were  saying 
that  if  we  didn't  get  a  furlough  so  we  could  go 
back  to  Deepdale " 

"For  a  certain  purpose,"  suggested  Will. 

"For  a  certain  purpose,"  Frank  repeated  sol- 


A   LARK  IN   THE   OPEN  59 

emnly — "we  were  afraid  we  might  have  to  de- 
sert." 

"Yes,  that  would  have  been  sensible,"  scoffed 
Mollie.  "Get  half  a  dozen  years  in  prison  for 
yourselves  and  I'd  like  to  know  where  your  fur- 
loughs would  be  then." 

"And  you  haven't  really  told  us  a  single  nice 
thing  about  ourselves,"  added  Betty  plaintively. 
"All  the  time  we've  just  been  holding  our  breath 
to  listen " 

"We've  been  doing  our  best  to  tell  you  those 
nice  things,  every  minute  of  every  day  since  then," 
said  Allen  in  a  low  voice.  "If  you  haven't  heard, 
it's  because  you  wouldn't  listen." 

Betty  colored  adorably — to  quote  Allen  again — 
and  resumed  her  packing  with  great  fervor. 

"All  of  which,"  Frank  finished  his  self-justifi- 
cation, "shows  that  we're  far  from  anxious  to 
leave  you  girls  when  we  say  we're  eager  for  ac- 
tion. I  guess,"  he  added,  thoughtfully,  "it's  just 
because  we're  so  crazy  to  be  with  you  that  we're 
eager  to  go  across." 

"That  sounds  rather "  began  Grace,  but 

Frank  would  not  let  her  finish. 

"I  know  it  does,"  he  admitted.  "Sounds  like  a 
contradiction.  But  I  think  you  know  what  I'm 
trying  to  get  at,  just  the  same." 

"Why,   sure,"   Will  backed  him  up  eagerly. 


60    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Frank  means  that  we've  got  a  confounded,  dis- 
agreeable job  to  do  before  we  can  settle  down  and 
be  happy  on  good  old  United  States  soil 
again " 

"And  the  sooner  we  get  it  done,  the  better," 
finished  Roy. 

Allen  nodded. 

"I  guess  that's  about  the  size  of  it,"  he  said. 
"The  sooner  we  get  there,  the  sooner  we'll  be 
coming  home  again.  And,  say,  fellows,  what  a 
home  coming !" 

At  the  wistfulness  in  his  voice  the  girls  felt  the 
tears  rise  to  their  eyes,  and  to  save  them  from  a 
breakdown  Betty  crisply  changed  the  subject. 

"I  hope  you  boys  can  get  over  to  the  Hostess 
House  Thursday  night  to  see  the  entertainment 
we  are  helping  get  up  among  those  new  fellows 
who  came  week  before  last,"  she  cried. 

"Working  yourselves  to  death  over  it,  are 
you?"  inquired  Allen. 

"Never!"  returned  Grace,  with  sudden  em- 
phasis. 

"But  it's  lots  of  fun,"  chuckled  Mollie.  "We 
have  found  out  by  judicious  inquiry — Amy,  here, 
soon  worms  out  the  heart  secrets  of  these  boys  by 
her  quiet,  sympathetic  way — that  a  number  of 
those  boys  have  parlor  tricks  of  one  sort  or  an- 
other, and " 


A  LARK  IN  THE  OPEN  6l 

"That  orchestra  fellow  really  is  good,"  inter- 
rupted Amy.  "Boys,  you  should  hear  him  play! 
He  has  a  guitar  hung  over  his  shoulder,  a  har- 
monica strapped  to  his  head,  a  piano  near  by  to 
which  he  makes  sudden  dashes,  and  all  the  while 
he  dances  the  most  marvelous  dance!" 

For  once  Amy  was  aroused  to  enthusiasm. 
The  boys,  however,  were  less  interested,  and  Roy 
wanted  to  know  what  the  girls  themselves  had  to 
do  in  the  coming  entertainment. 

"Oh,"  laughed  Betty,  "we  are  stage  managers, 
scenic  artists,  stage  hands,  costumers,  modern 
imitation  of  the  Greek  chorus,  stays  and  props 
for  the  weak  and  timid,  brakes  for  the  overbold 
— in  fact,  we  are  around  to  do  any  work  that  no- 
body else  wants  to  do. 

"But  we  haven't  decided,"  she  reminded  them 
suddenly,  "just  how  we're  going  to  spend  the  rest 
of  the  afternoon.  Of  course  we  can  always  take 
a  walk " 

"Not  after  that  lunch,"  declared  Allen,  striving 
to  sit  up,  and  sinking  down  again  with  a  moan. 
"I'm  ten  pounds  heavier  than  when  I  came." 

"Well,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  admit  it," 
retorted  Mollie.  "I  thought  in  the  army  you  had 
to  be  able  to  hike  fifteen  miles  without  winking." 

"Sure.  But  this  is  our  day  off,"  objected  Roy. 
"What  do  you  suppose  we  get  leave  for — just 


62    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

to  do  what  we  can  do  every  day  of  our  lives?" 

"Well,  then,  for  goodness  sake,  suggest  some- 
thing," cried  Mollie  impatiently. 

"I  have  an  idea,"  cried  Allen,  so  suddenly  that 
they  all  started. 

"Well,  you  needn't  be  so  proud  of  it." 

"Do  you  remember  that  pond  we  came  across 
the  day  we  went  prospecting  alone,  Frank?"  he 
continued,  not  noticing  the  interruption. 

"Yes,"  Frank  answered,  catching  the  idea  and 
looking  interested.  "Seems  to  me  it  ought  to  be 
somewhere  in  this  neighborhood.  Going  to  catch 
some  fish?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  put  in  Roy  scornfully. 
"We're  so  attractive  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  whis- 
tle to  the  little  animals  to  have  them  squabbling 
for  the  best  place  on  th'e  hook." 

"My,  isn't  he  the  sarcastic  boy,"  grinned  Allen. 
"That  little  trick  might  work  with  you,  Roy,  but 
we're  more  modest." 

"Well,  have  you  got  any  fishing  tackle?" 
queried  Roy  patiently. 

"Sure,"  it  was  Frank's  turn  to  be  sarcastic. 
"Don't  you  know  that's  a  part  of  every  dough- 
boy's outfit — so  he  can  go  fishing  for  the  Huns  ?" 

"Peace,  peace,  my  children,"  entreated  Betty 
plaintively.  "Can't  we  ever  talk  about  anything 
without  getting  into  an  argument?" 


A  LARK  IN  THE  OPEN  63 

"But  this  isn't  an  argument ;  it's  a  suggestion," 
said  Allen.  "Though  I  expect  the  scorn  and  ridi- 
cule of  an  unthinking  populace.  Perhaps  you 
have  heard  of  the  old-fashioned,  but  sometimes 
effective,  string  and  bent  pin  ?" 

The  boys  shouted,  and  Allen  bent  upon  them  a 
pitying  glance. 

"It  is  even  as  I  expected,"  he  said  sorrowfully. 
"Well,  I  have  done  my  best " 

"I  say  old  man,"  Roy  interrupted  suddenly, 
proving  an  unexpected  ally,  "I'm  for  you.  Of 
course  we  won't  get  anything,  but  it  will  be  an 
adventure.  And  gee,  some  fresh  fish  would  taste 
good !" 

So  they  went  to  work,  eager  as  children  on  a 
lark.  The  girls  managed  to  furnish  enough  pins 
for  the  hooks,  and  when  the  available  string  gave 
out,  the  boys  made  use  of  stout,  withy  vines  as 
substitutes. 

And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  they  actually 
were  successful.  The  little  stream  proved  to  be 
full  to  overflowing  with  fish,  small  to  be  sure, 
but  still  eatable. 

"Gee,  I  never  saw  anything  like  it !"  cried  Roy 
as  he  excitedly  pulled  out  one  fish  after  another. 
"They  seem  to  be  eager  to  be  caught.  And  to 
think  that  we  actually  scoffed  at  the  idea." 

"That's  what  genius  always  has  to  bear,"  put 


64    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

in  Allen,  resignedly,  while  Betty  gave  him  a  side- 
wise  glance  from  under  her  long  lashes. 

"Oh,  don't  we  hate  ourself,"  she  chided  softly, 
as  she  handed  him  more  bait.  "You  really 
shouldn't,  Allen " 

"What!  Hate  myself?"  he  demanded,  letting 
a  fish  slip  back  into  the  water  in  his  preoccupa- 
tion. "I'd  just  as  soon — as  long  as  you  don't!" 

Betty  laughed  happily.  It  was  so  good  to  be 
there,  unbelievably  catching  fish,  with  Allen  be- 
side her  saying  delightful — and  foolish — things. 

Then  she  thought  of  the  parting  that  must  in- 
evitably come  and  her  bright  face  clouded.  Allen 
saw  the  shadow  and  leaned  toward  her  anxiously. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  he  whispered  softly. 
"Have  I  done  anything?" 

"No,"  she  answered  with  a  little  smile,  half- 
whimsical,  half-wistful.  "You  haven't  done  any- 
thing. It's  what  you're  going  to  do  that  hurts." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ENTER   SERGEANT   MULLINS 

"MOLLIE,  you've  been  crying." 

"I  have  not!"  snapped  Mollie,  turning  so  the 
light  would  not  fall  on  her  face. 

"Well,  what  are  your  eyes  and  nose  all  red  for 
then?"  asked  Amy  reasonably. 

"Ask  them,"  retorted  Mollie.  "Probably  just 
did  it  to  make  me  mad." 

Several  days  had  gone  by,  and  the  entertain- 
ment into  which  the  girls  had  thrown  themselves 
with  so  much  enthusiasm  had  been  given  and 
pronounced  a  great  success  by  the  soldiers  sta- 
tioned at  Camp  Liberty.  Since  then  the  days  had 
been  given  largely  to  the  routine  work  of  the 
Hostess  House — afternoon  teas,  evening  coffee 
served  to  those  who  wished  it,  writing  letters  for 
the  boys,  entertaining  others,  looking  after  wives 
and  mothers  and  sisters  who  were  visiting  near 
the  camp,  suggesting  books  for  some  who  seemed 
to  be  of  uncertain  taste.  Now,  on  this  day,  some- 
thing unusual  had  plainly  happened. 

65 


"Oh,  girls,  I've  got  a  wonderful  plan  —  some- 
thing new  for  the  soldier  boys!"  cried  Betty, 
breaking  in  upon  her  two  friends  merrily.  Then, 
seeing  that  she  had  interrupted  something,  paused 
and  looked  uncertainly  from  Amy  to  Mollie  and 
back  again. 

"Why,  Mollie/*  she  cried  anxiously,  "what  is 
the  matter?" 

"Oh,  can't  you  find  something  original  to  say?" 
snapped  Mollie  irascibly.  "Seems  to  me  that's  all 
I  hear  from  morning  to  night.  'Oh,  Mollie, 
what's  the  matter  —  what's  the  matter,  Mollie?' 
till  I  could  scream." 

"Oh,  please  excuse  me,"  said  Betty,  with  a 
little  freezing  quality  in  her  voice.  "I  thought 
I  might  help;  but  if  that's  the  way  you  feel  about 


Quick  as  a  flash  Mollie  had  run  to  her  and, 
repentant,  thrown  her  arms  about  the  Little  Cap- 
tain's neck. 

"Please  forgive  me,  Betty,"  she  cried.  "I'm 
perfectly  horrid,  and  I  know  I  don't  deserve  a 
friend  like  you.  But  —  well,  I'm  just  a  beast, 
that's  all,"  she  finished  lamely. 

Betty  laughed  and  patted  her  shoulder  com- 
fortingly. 

"I  guess  we  all  are  once  in  a  while,"  she  said, 
adding  with  a  return  of  her  old  cheeriness,  "Now, 


ENTER   SERGEANT   MULLINS  67 

prove  your  repentance  by  'fessing  up.  It's  sure  to 
make  you  feel  better." 

"Well,  it  wasn't  anything  much,"  Mollie  re- 
plied, her  face  clouding  again.  "Only — I  had  a 
quarrel  with — with — somebody " 

"How  very  explicit,"  drawled  Grace,  who  had 
entered  the  room  in  time  to  hear  the  last  part 
of  the  sentence. 

Mollie  stiffened,  and  Betty  sent  Grace  a  warn- 
ing glance. 

"Go  on,  Mollie  dear,  I'm  awfully  interested," 
Betty  hurriedly  interposed.  "Because,  you  see," 
she  added  ruefully,  "I  just  had  a  quarrel  my- 
self." 

"You  did,"  cried  the  three  at  once,  and  crowded 
around  her  eagerly. 

"Oh,  Betty,  who  with?"  asked  Amy,  too  ex- 
cited to  bother  about  grammar.  Betty  quarreled 
so  seldom  with  anybody  that  when  she  did  the 
girls  considered  it  an  event. 

"I'll  tell  you  about  it  after  Mollie  has  'fessed 
up,"  evaded  Betty,  seeming  a  trifle  sorry  for  her 
confidence. 

"Oh,  did  Mollie  have  one,  too?"  cried  Grace 
delightedly,  while  Mollie  sent  her  a  hostile  glance. 

"Well,  you  needn't  be  so  glad  about  it,"  she 
retorted  glumly.  "Maybe  it  wouldn't  seem  quite 
so  interesting  if  it  were  you  and  Roy." 


68    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Well,  how  do  you  know  it  wasn't  ?" 

The  three  girls  stared. 

"What  was  that  you  said?"  demanded  Betty 
weakly.  "I  don't  think  I  quite " 

"I  said,"  returned  Grace  calmly,  and  pronounc- 
ing each  word  with  exaggerated  distinctness, 
"that  Roy  and  I  have  had  a  quarrel,  which  prob- 
ably would  make  yours  look  like  nothing  at  all." 

"Grace!"  they  cried  in  chorus,  "do  you  mean 
it?" 

For  answer  Grace  turned  to  the  mirror  and 
began  to  arrange  her  hair. 

"Ask  Roy,"  she  flung  at  them  over  her  shoul- 
der. 

Behind  her  the  girls  looked  at  each  other 
dumbly,  struggling  with  a  wild  desire  to  laugh 
and  cry  at  the  same  instant. 

"But  how  ?"  Amy  was  beginning  dazedly  when 
once  more  Betty  came  to  the  rescue. 

"All  this  would  be  funny  if  it  weren't  so  im- 
possible," she  said.  "Suppose  we  begin  at  the  be- 
ginning and  tell  our  experiences,  since  we're  all 
in  the  same  boat.  It  ought  to  be  interesting — if 
not  instructive." 

Grace  turned  from  the  mirror  and  seated  her- 
self expectantly  on  the  arm  of  a  chair. 

"Well,  who's  first?"  she  demanded. 

"I  am,"  volunteered  Mollie  unexpectedly,  her 


ENTER   SERGEANT   MULLINS  &) 

eyes  glittering.  "It  was  all  so  utterly  absurd,  and 
it  made  me  so  m-mad  that  I  had  to  c-cry " 

"So  we  see,"  murmured  Grace  impatiently,  but 
once  more  Betty  sent  her  a  warning  glance. 

"And  then "  she  suggested. 

"Well,  Frank  and  I  were  taking  a  little  walk 
when  all  of  a  sudden  I  happened  to  think  of  the 
bayonet  drill  Sergeant  Mullins  had  invited  us  to." 

Betty  and  Grace  started  and  leaned  forward 
eagerly  in  their  chairs. 

"Yes?"  they  breathed. 

"Well,"  continued  Mollie,  her  color  rising,  "I 
don't  know  whatever  got  into  Frank — he  never 
used  to  be  like  that.  He  just  sort  of  froze  up 
and  wouldn't  answer  my  questions  or  anything 
until  I  got  so  angry  I  told  him  that  if  he  didn't 
tell  me  what  the  matter  was  I'd  say  good-by  to 
him  right  there  and  wouldn't  ever  speak  to  him 
again." 

"Yes?"  breathed  the  girls  again. 

"Then  what  did  he  say?"  asked  Grace. 

"Why,  he  just  got  red  in  the  face,"  replied 
Mollie,  "and  said  all  right  then,  he'd  tell  me  what 
the  matter  was.  And  then  he  said" — she  laughed 
a  little  hysterically — "that  he  just  couldn't  stand 
the  thought  of  my  seeing  so  much  of  Sergeant 
Mullins — think  of  it — me,  who  have  never  said 
two  words  alone  to  the  man  in  my  life!" 


70    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Well,  I  never!"  Betty  exploded,  while  the 
usually  placid  Grace  seemed  hardly  able  to  keep 
her  seat.  "That's  almost  exactly  what  Allen 
said!" 

"And  Roy,  too!"  cried  Grace  dazedly.  "Girls, 
what  does  it  mean?" 

"It  seems  to  mean,"  put  in  Amy  dryly,  "that 
one  or  all  of  us  are  ready  for  the  insane  asylum." 

"Allen  said,"  Betty  contributed,  wide-eyed, 
"that  it  made  him  mad  to  see  the  way  that  Ser- 
geant Mullins  hung  around  the  Hostess  House 
all  the  time.  He  made  it  quite  plain  that  there 
was  no  doubt  but  what  I  was  the  main  attrac- 
tion." 

"And  Roy  thinks  it's  me,"  said  Grace,  her  own 
grammar  suffering  from  excitement.  "Goodness ! 
does  he  think  the  poor  boy  is  after  all  of  us  ?" 

"Thinks  he's  going  to  start  a  harem,  maybe," 
cried  Mollie  hysterically.  "Oh,  dear,  isn't  it  too 
ridiculous?" 

"I  suppose,"  said  Amy  thoughtfully,  "it's  be- 
cause Sergeant  Mullins  is  so  awfully  good-look- 
ing." 

"And,  of  course,  he  does  come  around  a  good 
deal,"  added  Mollie. 

"I  know.  But  that's  because  he's  so  lone- 
some," put  in  Betty.  "And,  of  course,  we  have 
all  tried  to  be  nice  to  him.  I  think  it's  horrid," 


ENTER   SERGEANT   MULLINS  71 

she  added,  flaring  up,  "for  the  boys  to  act  so  ridic- 
ulously just  because  he  happens  to  be  good-look- 
ing and  awfully  attractive!" 

"Oh,  Betty,  Betty,"  chided  Mollie,  wiping  a 
tear — this  time  of  merriment — from  her  eyes. 
"If  Allen  could  only  hear  you  now!" 

"Nonsense !"  retorted  Betty,  almost  snappishly. 
"There  are  dozens  of  boys  who  come  here  to  tell 
us  their  troubles,  and  I  don't  see  why  they  have 

tn— — " 

"Pick  on  him,*'  finished  Grace.  "Only  you 
must  remember,"  she  added  with  a  twinkle,  "that 
he  is  much  more  attractive  than  most " 

"And  he  never  tells  us  any  troubles  either," 
added  Mollie,  with  a  chuckle.  "Maybe  the  boys 
think  that's  suspicious." 

"Well,"  said  Amy,  with  a  sigh,  "I  seem  to  be 
the  only  one  left  out.  Nobody  thinks  it's  worth 
while  to  quarrel  romantically  about  me." 

The  girls  laughed,  and  Grace  added  with  a 
grimace : 

"Goodness,  you  needn't  feel  bad  about  it.  It 
was  just  your  luck  that  you  didn't  meet  Will  this 
morning  and  tell  him  the  awful  news,  that's  all.  I 
suppose  he'd  have  acted  as  silly  as  the  rest  of 
them." 

"Maybe  it's  a  plant  anyway,"  suggested  Mol- 
lie dolefully. 


72    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"A  plant?"  queried  Betty.  "What  kind— a 
flower  or  a  T.  N.  T.  factory?" 

"A  plot  was  what  I  meant,"  explained  Mollie 
patiently,  while  the  others  chuckled. 

"A  plot!"  repeated  Grace,  with  a  return  of  her 
drawl.  "Heavens,  Mollie,  if  there  is  anything  in 
signs  you  ought  to  be  a  great  author  some  day 
from  the  way  you're  always  seeing  a  plot  in 
everything." 

"Thank  you,  I  hope  so,"  said  Mollie. 

"Well,  for  goodness'  sake  get  to  the  point," 
urged  Grace  impatiently,  glancing  at  the  clock. 
"We'll  have  to  dress  pretty  soon,  to  go  down  to 
serve  the  regular  afternoon  tea  to  the  soldier  boys 
and  their  friends." 

"Oh,  it  just  occurred  to  me,"  Mollie  explained, 
"that  perhaps  the  boys  had  met  some  girls  in 
town  they  liked  better  than  they  like  us  and  had 
gotten  up  a  conspiracy — to — to— quarrel  with 
us " 

"What  a  brilliant  idea!"  scoffed  Grace.  "Es- 
pecially as  the  boys  have  been  following  us  around 
like  Mary's  little  lamb,  and  have  scared  all  the 
other  boys  away." 

"And  without  being  conceited  at  all,"  added 
Amy,  with  a  chuckle,  "the  girls  I've  seen  around 
the  town  really  aren't  calculated  to  steal  their 
hearts  away." 


ENTER   SERGEANT   MULLINS  73 

"In  that  case,  haven't  we  still  got  Sergeant 
Mullins?"  chuckled  Betty. 

They  laughed,  and  Mollie  added,  as  they  started 
to  dress  for  the  afternoon : 

"I  wonder  if  the  boys  really  expected  that  we 
wouldn't  go  to  this  special  bayonet  drill  to-mor- 
row— especially  when  we've  been  longing  to  see 
one  for  ages — just  because  Sergant  Mullins  in- 
vited us?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Betty  carelessly. 
"But  it  really  doesn't  matter  since  we're  going 
anyway !" 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   BAYONET   DRILL 

IT  was  a  beautiful  sunshiny  day,  and  the  girls 
felt  their  spirits  soaring  happily  as  they  ran  down 
the  steps  of  the  Hostess  House  and  started  across 
the  parade. 

Also  the,  what  appeared  to  them,  foolish  ob- 
jections of  the  boys  to  their  attending  the  bayonet 
drill  lent  spice  to  the  adventure,  and  they  hurried 
on  gaily  over  the  parade. 

Sergeant  Mullins,  who  had  unwittingly  caused 
all  the  excitement,  was,  as  the  girls  had  said,  a 
tall,  splendidly  built  fellow,  good  looking  to  an 
unusual  degree,  but  very  silent  and  reserved. 

He  had  seemed  immensely  attracted  from  the 
first  by  the  girls  from  the  Hostess  House,  and 
had  made  overtures  in  a  half -shy,  half -humorous 
manner  that  the  girls  themselves  had  found  very 
attractive. 

But  to  them  he  had  been  only  one  of  many 
interesting  soldier  boys  who  had  come  and  gone 
and  whose  meetings  and  partings  with  dear  ones 

74 


THE  BAYONET  DRILL  75 

they  had  watched  with  swelling  throats  and  tears 
in  their  own  eyes. 

But  Sergeant  Mullins  was  an  expert  with  the 
bayonet  and  had  been  attached  to  Camp  Liberty 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  the  boys  special  drills 
in  that  work. 

He  had  proved  so  wonderfully  successful  that, 
much  to  his  secret  chagrin — for  Sergeant  Mul- 
lins, like  all  the  rest  of  our  brave  boys,  had 
dreamed  of  the  great  things  he  would  do  "over 
there" — the  Government  had  decided  to  keep  him 
at  Camp  Liberty  indefinitely. 

Then,  one  day,  he  had  invited  the  girls,  in  re- 
turn for  the  many  little  kindnesses  they  had  done 
him,  to  attend  one  of  his  special,  exhibition  drills. 

They  had  accepted  eagerly,  little  dreaming  of 
the  storm  their  acceptance  would  evoke.  And  it 
is  very  doubtful  whether,  even  if  they  had  known, 
it  would  have  made  any  difference,  for  they  had 
long  desired  just  this  thing  and  knew  that  in 
years  to  come  they  would  look  back  upon  it  as 
one  of  the  biggest  experiences  in  their  lives. 

"What  time  is  it,  Amy?"  Betty  inquired  a 
little  anxiously.  "I'm  afraid  we  stopped  to  talk 
too  long  to  those  women  who  came  out  to  see 
their  nephew,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  late." 

"We  have  just  a  minute  to  spare,"  returned 
Amy,  and  they  quickened  their  pace. 


76    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Wouldn't  it  be  fun,"  said  Mollie,  her  eyes 
sparkling,  "if  we  could  only  meet  the  boys?  I'd 
just  like  to  pay  them  back  for  being  so  silly !" 

"Maybe  they'll  be  in  the  drill,"  drawled  Grace 
hopefully. 

"That  would  be  adding  insult  to  injury,"  Betty 
chuckled.  "Then  they  never  would  forgive  us." 

"I  just  hate  jealous  people,  anyway,"  added 
Grace,  diving  into  her  pocket  and  bringing  forth 
a  luscious  bonbon  which  Mollie  eyed  covetously. 
"I  think  it's  so  ridiculous  and  narrow,  don't 
you?" 

"I  think  it's  a  good  deal  more  ridiculous  and 
narrow,"  grumbled  Mollie,  still  hungrily  eyeing 
the  rapidly  disappearing  chocolate,  "to  keep  all 
the  candies  to  yourself." 

"Oh,  goodness!  Take  one,"  returned  Grace, 
offering  a  capacious  pocket.  "I  didn't  know  you 
were  such  a  shy  and  shrinking  little  violet,  Mol- 
lie. You  usually  are  perfectly  capable  of  help- 
ing yourself." 

"Well,  not  out  of  your  fuzzy  old  pocket,"  Mol- 
lie retorted  ungraciously.  "Why  didn't  you  bring 
the  box  along?" 

Grace  eyed  her  pityingly. 

"Wouldn't  I  look  nice,"  she  demanded,  "lug- 
ging a  candy  box  along  to  a  bayonet  drill  ?" 

"I  think  you'd  probably  be  exceedingly  popu- 


THE  BAYONET  DRILL  77 

lar,"  Betty  broke  in,  with  a  chuckle.  "You'd 
have  all  the  boys  around  you  in  earnest." 

"And  then  what  would  Roy  say?"  teased  Amy. 
"He'd  never  speak  to  poor  Grace  again." 

"Poor  Grace,  indeed !"  sniffed  the  owner  of  the 
name  scornfully.  "I'd  just  like  to  have  anybody 
try  to  'poor  Grace'  me!  He'd  never  do  it  a  sec- 
ond time." 

"Goodness,  don't  look  so  ferocious,  Gracfe," 
Mollie  soothed  her.  "Some  one  give  her  another 
candy — do." 

"I'm  not  a  cripple,"  Grace  retorted,  evidently 
in  a  belligerent  mood.  "I've  always  been  quite 
able  to  help  myself." 

"So  we've  noticed,"  iiurmured  Mollie  irre- 
pressibly. 

"Will  you  two  please  listen  to  reason?"  queried 
Betty,  in  her  primmest  tones. 

"Yes,  grandma,"  replied  Mollie  soberly — • 
which  was  so  ridiculous  that  even  Betty  dimpled. 
"What  have  we  done  now  ?" 

"Nothing.  It's  what  you  may  do,"  Betty  an- 
swered, adding,  in  an  explanatory  tone:  "You 
see,  we  are  just  about  to  enter  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  the  drill  ground,  and  it  is  fitting  that  we 
do  so  with  an  air  of  propriety  and  sobriety." 

"Goodness,  is  she  insulting  us?"  cried  Mollie, 
in  mock  indignation.  "I'll  have  you  know,  Miss 


78    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Nelson,  that  I,  for  one,  am  not  intoxicated  and, 
what  is  more,  never  expect  to  be." 

"Goodness !  that  is  a  relief,"  sighed  Grace,  who 
had  been  hanging  breathlessly  on  her  words.  "I 
thought  you  were  going  to  say  'I  am  not  drunk, 
but  soon  shall  be/  or  words  to  that  effect " 

"But  will  you  listen?"  cried  Betty  despair- 
ingly. "I've  got  about  as  much  chance  of  saying 
anything  sensible " 

"As  the  man  in  the  moon,"  finished  Grace  in- 
nocently, then,  meeting  Betty's  outraged  eye, 
added  hastily:  "Oh,  wasn't  that  what  you  were 
going  to  say?" 

"No,  it  wasn't,"  Betty  was  beginning,  when 
Mollie,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  played  the 
part  of  peacemaker. 

"Go  ahead,  honey,"  she  interrupted  soothingly. 
"We're  all  ears." 

"Speak  for  yourself,"  Grace  murmured. 

But  this  time  Betty  would  not  yield,  and  in- 
sisted upon  being  heard. 

"Please  listen  a  minute,  girls,"  she  begged. 
"You  know  we've  got  a  reputation,  deserved  or 
not,  of  being  respectable " 

"Oh,  what  a  mistake,"  interpolated  Mollie. 

"I  said  it  might  be  a  mistake,"  Betty  contin- 
ued patiently,  although  her  eyes  twinkled.  "Any- 
way, we've  got  to  live  up  to  it — Goodness!  just 


THE  BAYONET  DRILL 


79 


look  at  the  boys.  I  guess  the  whole  camp  must 
be  in  the  drill." 

"Yes,  I  guess  Sergeant  Mullins  was  right  when 
he  said  it  was  to  be  an  exhibition  drill,"  agreed 
Mollie,  all  fun  temporarily  swallowed  up  in  a 
very  real  admiration  of  the  spectacle  before 
them. 

"It's  no  wonder  that  Sergeant  Mullins  is  con- 
sidered a  very  important  personage  around  here," 
added  Amy. 

"Oh,  look!"  cried  Grace,  as  they  sat  down 
upon  a  convenient  bench.  "They've  started.  Oh, 
girls,  I'm  glad  I  came!" 

Mutely  the  girls  echoed  the  sentiment,  and  for 
the  next  hour  they  sat  motionless,  eyes  and  at- 
tention glued  upon  the  magnificent  spectacle  of  a 
thousand  men,  running,  advancing,  retreating, 
attacking,  all  in  obedience  to  one  great  plan. 

They  forgot  it  was  only  a  sham  attack,  an  imi- 
tation battle,  an  exhibition  drill.  For  the  mo- 
ment a  curtain  had  been  lifted  and  they  were 
permitted  to  see  something  of  the  glory,  the  pas- 
sion, the  horror  of  democracy's  struggle  against 
the  armed  autocracy  of  the  world. 

When  it  was  over  they  sighed  and  came  back 
to  the  present  almost  with  a  shock,  so  greatly  had 
they  been  engrossed  in  the  scene. 

"Well,  Sergeant  Mullins  may  not  ke  much  *f  a 


80    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

talker,"  were  Mollie's  first  words  as  they  rose  to 
go  back,  "but  he  certainly  knows  how  to  act !" 

"It  was  wonderful!"  breathed  Betty,  her  eyes 
gleaming.  "Just  think  what  it  must  be  to  be  a 
man  in  these  times !  To  be  able  to  fight  for  one's 
country !" 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Amy,  with  a  little 
shudder.  "That  part  of  it's  all  right.  But  when 
it  conies  to  being  maimed  and  crippled  for  life 
it  isn't  so  much  fun." 

"Oh,  Amy,  don't!"  cried  Grace,  clapping  her 
hands  to  her  ears,  while  Betty  continued  spirit- 
edly : 

"I  didn't  say  it  was  fun,"  she  cried.  "Natur- 
ally the  boys  have  to  take  into  consideration  the 
possibility  of  all  that  you  said,  Amy.  But  there's 
no  glory  in  the  world  like  giving  yourself  for  a 
great  cause " 

"Hear,  hear!"  came  a  masculine  voice  in  ap- 
plause, and  they  turned  to  find  Allen  and  Frank 
close  behind  them. 

"Well,  what  will  you  have  ?"  asked  Mollie,  eye- 
ing them  hostilely.  "We  thought  you  were  lost 
and  gone  forever  like  Clementine " 

"And  were  quite  reconciled,"  finished  Betty 
primly,  her  eyes  twinkling. 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you?"  cried  Frank,  regard- 
ing Mollie's  haughtily  tip-tilt  little  nose  with 


THE  BAYONET  DRILL  gl 

mingled  fear  and  admiration.  "Well,  I'll  have 
you  know,  young  lady,  that  you  can't  get  rid  of 
us  as  easily  as  all  that.  May  I  be  permitted  to 
walk  beside  you,  mam'selle?" 

Mollie  sighed  and  permitted  the  liberty  with 
an  air  of  great  resignation. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Allen  was  whispering  into 
Betty's  almost  reluctant  little  ear. 

"Did  you  really  mean  what  you  said  about  its 
being  glorious  to  give  yourself  for  a  great  cause?" 
he  asked  softly. 

"Why,  I — g-guess  so,"  she  stammered,  taken 
off  her  guard.  "Why?" 

"Oh,  just  because,"  he  answered  vaguely, 
watching  the  elusive  little  dimple  at  the  corner  of 
her  mouth,  "I  might  want  to  remind  you  of  it — 
some  day." 


CHAPTER  X 

ALARMING   SYMPTOMS 

THE  girls  awoke  one  morning  several  days 
later — days  of  routine  duty  at  the  Hostess  House 
— with  the  delightful  sensation  of  something  good 
impending.  Crowded  as  they  were  in  the  one 
big  room  for  Mrs.  Sanderson's  accommodation, 
they  had  formed  the  habit  of  talking  over  their 
prospective  fun  before  the  actual  work  and  hurry 
and  bustle  of  the  day  began. 

So  it  was  this  morning,  just  after  the  sun  had 
streamed  in  through  the  two  big  east  windows 
and  settled  on  the  tip  of  Betty's  upturned  little 
nose  in  a  most  provocative  manner. 

Sleepily  she  rubbed  a  hand  across  her  face, 
then  sneezed. 

"Goodness,  she's  got  the  'flu' !"  cried  Grace  in 
alarm,  as  she  sat  up  in  bed,  jerking  the  covers 
from  her  now  fully  aroused  bedfellow.  "Amy! 
Mollie !  Get  me  a  gas  mask,  somebody !" 

"I  think  it's  poor  Betty  that  needs  the  gas 
mask,"  retorted  Mollie  dryly.  "I  never  heard 

82 


ALARMING    SYMPTOMS  83 

you  talk  so  much  this  early  in  the  morning  since 
the  first  day  of  our  acquaintance,  Grace.  What 
happened  to  wake  you  up?" 

Whereupon  Betty  sneezed  again,  and  Grace 
jumped  about  a  foot  in  the  bed. 

"Please  take  her  away,  somebody,"  she  wailed 
plaintively,  while  Betty  regarded  her  out  of  wide 
and  sleep-brilliant  eyes.  "I  heard  a  doctor  say 
the  other  day  that  at  the  second  sneeze  it  was 
time  to  go  to  the  hospital." 

"Well,  run  along,"  twinkled  Betty,  adding, 
with  a  speculative  look:  "If  you'll  wait  just  about 
two  minutes,  I  think  I  can  give  you  another 
one." 

But  Grace  waited  to  hear  no  more.  With  a 
bound  she  was  out  of  the  bed  and  half-way 
across  the  room. 

"Goodness!"  remarked  quiet  Amy,  with  a 
laugh,  "I  should  think  it  would  be  almost  worth 
while  having  the  'flu,'  Betty,  just  to  see  Gracie 
move  like  that." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Betty, 
rubbing  the  offending  little  nose  ruefully.  "It's 
easy  to  talk  when  it's  some  one  else  who's  got  it. 
Nobody  seems  to  have  any  sympathy  for  me  at 
all." 

"We  would,  dear,"  cried  Mollie,  slipping  out 
of  her  own  bed  and  taking  Grace's  place  beside 


84    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Betty  on  the  sun-flooded  cot,  "only  you  don't 
really  look  as  though  you  were  dying  of  anything, 
you  know — especially  influenza.  Betty  dear," 
she  added,  with  an  impulsive  little  hug,  "you  do 
look  so  pretty!" 

"Now  she  does  want  a  quarter,"  remarked 
Grace  skeptically,  as  she  took  the  place  Mollie 
had  vacated.  "Don't  you  believe  her,  Betty  Nel- 
son. It's  too  early  in  the  morning  to  see  straight 
anyway." 

Betty  laughed  delightedly. 

"How  very  complimentary,"  she  said,  with  a 
droll  twist  to  the  corner  of  her  mouth.  "Never 
mind,  Mollie,  it's  worth  a  quarter  just  for  seeing 
crooked !" 

Mollie  hugged  her,  and  even  Grace  had  to 
laugh. 

"Which  reminds  me,"  continued  Betty,  apropos 
of  nothing  at  all,  "that  we  have  a  whole  holiday 
which  we  can  spend  just  exactly  as  we  please." 

"Yes,  where  shall  we  go?"  cried  Amy  eagerly. 
"I  thought  maybe  we  could  take  Mollie's  car  and 
—and " 

Three  pairs  of  curious  eyes  were  focused  upon 
her  as  she  hesitated. 

"And  what?"  they  queried  in  chorus. 

"Well,  I  thought,"  continued  Amy,  a  little  shy, 
as  she  always  was  when  about  to  suggest  some- 


ALARMING   SYMPTOMS  85 

thing  for  another's  comfort,  "I  thought  we  might 
invite  Mrs.  Sanderson  to  go  along." 

"Good  for  you,  Amy  dear,"  cried  Betty 
eagerly.  "That's  just  exactly  what  I  was  think- 
ing. The  dear  old  lady  seemed  so  much  better 
yesterday  I  thought  we  might  persuade  her  to 
share  our  picnic  with  us.  How  about  it,  Mollie  ?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  answered  the  latter  heartily, 
"I'd  love  to  have  her — if  she'd  come." 

"If  she'd  come?"  repeated  Amy,  puzzled. 
"Why  shouldn't  she  come — that  is,  if  she's  feeling 
strong  enough?" 

"Well,"  explained  Mollie,  with  a  little  smile 
as  she  recalled  one  of  the  many  unusual  conver- 
sations she  had  had  with  the  little  old  woman, 
"she  told  me  the  other  day  that  she  'hated  them 
gasoline  wagons  worse  than  poison,' — that  the 
only  reason  she  rode  in  ours  was  because  she  was 
unconscious  when  we  put  her  in  and  she  couldn't 
help  herself.  And  she  added  somebody'd  have  to 
run  over  her  again  to  make  her  do  it  a  second 
time." 

Betty  laughed  gayly  as  she  flung  back  the  covers 
and  slipped  out  of  bed. 

"Goodness,  I  don't  wonder  you  were  doubtful," 
she  said.  "Maybe  she's  changed  her  mind  by  this 
time.  Anyway,  we  can  ask  her  and  see." 

"I  think  she's  the  most  wonderful  old  person 


86    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

I  ever  saw,"  remarked  Amy  thoughtfully,  as  they 
dressed  hastily.  "She  must  be  pretty  old,  and  yet 
she  says  the  funniest,  wittiest  things,  and  her  eyes 
sparkle  and  twinkle  like  a  girl's." 

"Well,  I  really  think  she  looks  older  than  she 
really  is,"  said  Grace  slowly  and  very  judicially. 
"You  know  working  on  a  farm  in  the  hot  sun  the 
way  she  did  for  years,  isn't  calculated  to  make  a 
person  look  younger  than  she  is." 

"Oh,  and  if  we  could  only  do  something  to  find 
him  for  her!"  sighed  Amy  for — the  girls  did  not 
know  whether  it  was  the  fiftieth  or  the  hundredth 
time,  they  had  given  up  counting. 

"Well,  wishing  won't  accomplish  anything," 
said  Mollie  practically,  as  she  vigorously  pulled 
on  a  shoe  as  if  it  were  in  some  mysterious  way 
responsible  for  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  affairs. 
"I  think  some  one  ought  to  nickname  us  the 
'four  Dianas/  " 

"Well,  of  course  Diana  was  very  beautiful," 
said  Grace,  complacently  regarding  her  own 
pretty  reflection  in  the  mirror.  "But  if  you  meant 
that,  Mollie,  of  course  the  description  applies  to 
only  one  of  us." 

"Goose,"  remarked  Mollie.  "Of  course  I 
wasn't  thinking  of  Diana's  beauty.  I  was  merely 
thinking  of  her  in  the  role  of  a  fair  huntress." 

"Goodness,   now  she  is  insulting  us!"   cried 


ALARMING   SYMPTOMS  87 

Betty,  turning  upon  her  friend  with  a  melodra- 
matic frown.  "Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  one 
or  all  of  us  are  huntresses?" 

"Not  of  men,"  said  Mollie  scathingly.  "That 
shows  a  guilty  conscience,  Betty.  I'm  surprised 
at  you." 

"O-oh!  Squelched !"  said  Betty  meekly.  "May 
I  ask,"  she  added  very  humbly,  "just  what  you 
did  mean?" 

"I  simply  meant,"  explained  Mollie  patiently, 
"that  we  were  after  two  men " 

"Oh !"  cried  Amy,  turning  upon  her  in  horror. 
"And  you  just  told  Betty  you  didn't  mean  that !" 

"I  didn't,"  cried  the  badgered  Mollie  in  des- 
peration, then  turned  away  in  disgust.  "There's 
no  use  trying  to  tell  you  anything,"  she  said. 

"Go  ahead,  Mollie  dear,"  urged  Betty. 

"I  meant,"  Mollie  continued  slightly,  but  only 
slightly,  mollified,  "that  we  were  hunting  two 
men — Mrs.  Sanderson's  Willie  and  the  motor- 
cyclist who  ran  her  down.  And  we  haven't  any 
more  real  chance  of  finding  them  than " 

"A  celluloid  dog  has  chasing  an  asbestos  cat 
in "  began  Grace. 

"That  will  do,"  cried  Betty  primly,  though  her 
eyes  danced.  "After  this,  you  will  kindly  answer 
when  you  are  spoken  to,.  Miss  Ford,  and  at  no 
other  time." 


88    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Oh,  is  that  so?"  mocked  Grace.  "Well,  I'll 
just  tell  you,  Miss  Nelson,  that  although  I  am 
extremely  fond  of  you — mistaken  as  that  may 
be — I  will  take  no  dictation  from  you  or  any  one 
else." 

"I'll  give  you  more  than  dictation,  if  you  don't 
stop  maundering,"  threatened  Mollie.  "A  girl 
has  about  as  much  chance  of  saying  anything 
sensible " 

"Did  you  ever  try?"  queried  Grace  innocently, 
and  Betty  and  Amy  had  to  form  a  human  barrier 
between  the  two  enemies. 

"Goodness,  please  don't  kill  her,  Mollie," 
begged  the  Little  Captain,  her  eyes  twinkling. 
"Not  till  after  breakfast,  anyway.  I  want  to  give 
you  a  chance  to  think  it  over." 

"Yes,  they're  punishing  murderers  terribly," 
added  Amy.  "I  heard  Major  Adams  say " 

"All  right,"  Mollie  agreed,  "I'll  let  her  off  until 
after  breakfast,  but  for  one  reason  and  one 
only " 

"And  that  ?"  they  queried  breathlessly. 

"I'll  be  stronger  then !"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XI 

POLITE  KIDNAPPERS 

BUT  it  seems  that  breakfast  "hath  charms  to 
sooth  the  savage  breast,"  for  after  Mollie  had 
attacked  and  conquered  the  appetizing  fruit  and 
cereal,  ham  and  eggs,  she  seemed  to  forget  all 
about  her  dire  threat  and  smiled  amiably  at  her 
intended  victim  across  the  table. 

"How  long  will  it  take  you  to  get  ready, 
Grace  ?"  she  inquired.  "Can  you  do  it  while  Betty 
and  I  go  around  to  the  garage  and  back  out  the 
car?" 

"Let  Amy  help  you  with  the  car  this  time," 
Betty  objected  before  Grace  could  reply.  "I  want 
to  ask  Mrs.  Sanderson  to  go  with  us." 

Mollie  clapped  her  hand  over  her  mouth  in  a 
gesture  of  dismay. 

"Goodness,"  she  reproached  herself,  "I  almost 
forgot  about  her.  Yes,  go  ahead  Betty  and  do 
your  best  to  get  her.  I  know  it  would  do  her 
good.  But  you  had  better  take  Amy  with  you 
to  help  persuade  Mrs.  Sanderson.  Amy  and  you 

89 


90    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

together  are  a  pair  that  will  be  hard  to  refuse. 
There  goes  Mr.  Bretton  now!  He's  so  grateful 
for  what  we  girls  have  done  for  him  here — as 
though  it  were  anything  at  all — that  he'd  do  far 
more  than  help  get  the  car  ready.  I'll  get  his 
help,  while  you  and  Amy  go  for  Mrs.  Sanderson 
and  Grace  gets  ready.  Now,  rush!  hurry!  fly! 
off  with  you!" 

Mollie  ran  out  of  the  house  and  after  the  young 
soldier  whose  help  she  sought.  Grace  went  to  her 
room  for  some  last-minute  dressing,  and  Amy  and 
Betty  went  upstairs  to  importune  Mrs.  Sanderson. 

"Well,  good  morning,  my  dears,"  said  the  old 
woman,  delighted  at  sight  of  their  bright  faces. 
"I  declare,  if  you  don't  bring  all  the  sunshine  in 
with  you!  It  is  lovely  of  you  to  call  on  an  old 
woman  so  early  in  the  morning." 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Betty,  eagerly  diving 
right  into  the  middle  of  her  subject.  "We've 
come  to  kidnap  you.  Please,  won't  you  let  us  ?" 

"Kidnap  me,"  repeated  the  old  lady,  patting  the 
soft  cheek  with  a  puzzled  air.  "Why,  it  seems 
to  me  sort  of  unusual  to  ask  a  body  if  you  can 
kidnap  'em." 

Betty  laughed. 

"Well,  I  guess  maybe  it  is,"  she  admitted  gayly. 
"But,  you  see,  we  can't  very  well  do  it  without 
asking  you.  Mollie  said,"  she  added,  taking  the 


POLITE  KIDNAPPERS  91 

little  lady's  hand  in  hers  and  squeezing  it  affec- 
tionately, "that  you  told  her  the  only  way  we  could 
get  you  to  do  it  was  to  make  you  unconscious 
again.  And,"  she  finished,  with  an  adorable  little 
coaxing  smile,  "we  couldn't  do  that,  you  know. 
We're  altogether  too  fond  of  you." 

Mrs.  Sanderson  laughed  and  pinched  her 
cheek. 

"Very  well,  honey,"  she  chuckled.  "Now  if 
you'll  tell  me  what  it's  all  about " 

"We  want  you  to  go  on  a  picnic  with  us," 
broke  in  Amy. 

"A  picnic !"  repeated  the  old  lady,  more  puzzled 
than  before.  "What  sort  of  picnic?" 

"An  automobile  picnic,"  explained  Betty,  add- 
ing quickly  as  she  saw  refusal  in  the  bright  old 
eyes.  "Oh,  please  don't  say  'no*  yet.  We've  got 
the  whole  day  off,  and  we're  going  to  take  Mollie's 
car  and  go  off  all  by  ourselves  and  eat  our  lunch 
and  admire  the  view  and " 

"Taste  gasoline  for  a  week  after,"  finished  the 
old  lady  with  a  little  grimace.  Then  she  added 
quickly,  as  she  saw  the  hurt  look  in  Betty's  bright 
face :  "No,  I  didn't  exactly  mean  that,  dear,  and 
I  wouldn't  say  anything  to  make  you  feel  bad  for 
worlds,  that  I  wouldn't,  only — I  jest  can't  bring 
myself  to  ride  in  those  automobiles.  You  see," 
there  was  an  almost  pathetic  appeal  for  under- 


92    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

standing  in  the  bright  old  eyes,  "I  guess  I'm 
maybe  too  old  to  change  my  ways,  an'  I  get  tired 
easy " 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  Amy  intervened 
with  rare  tact.  "Some  day  when  we're  going  for 
just  a  little  ride  around  the  block  we'll  ask  you 
again.  Maybe  you'll  feel  more  like  it  then,  and 
you  can  get  used  to  it  by  degrees." 

"That's  awfully  nice  of  you,  dearie,"  said  the 
old  woman,  looking  gratefully  from  one  bright 
face  to  the  other.  "I  suppose  you  don't  know  how 
much  I  appreciate  all  you've  done  for  me,"  she 
added,  her  voice  breaking  a  little,  "  'cause  I  never 
could  tell  you  if  I  lived  for  a  hundred  years. 
But  you  just  sort  o'  revived  my  faith  in  human 

nature.  Since  my  boy  went  away "  The  old 

voice  broke  down  entirely  then,  and  Betty  con- 
tinued patting  her  hand  soothingly. 

"But  there,"  she  added,  in  a  different  tone, 
wiping  her  eyes  determinedly  and  smiling  at  them, 
"this  ain't  no  kind  of  a  mornin'  for  tears,  an'  I 
know  my  son  Willie  would  be  tfie  first  one  to 
tell  me  so. 

"Thank  you  jest  as  much  for  askin'  me,  dearies, 
and  maybe  some  other  time  I'll  get  my  courage 
up  to  it.  But  now  you  jest  run  along  an'  enjoy 
yourselves. 

"An'  when  you  come  back,"  she  added,  taking 


POLITE   KIDNAPPERS  93 

both  of  the  soft  young  hands  in  her  wrinkled  one 
and  patting  them  gently,  "you  can  come  up  an' 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

"Oh,  will  you  let  us?"  asked  Betty  eagerly, 
jumping  up  and  dropping  a  kiss,  light  as  thistle- 
down, upon  the  old  face.  "And  we'll  bring  you 
flowers,  whole  bunches  of  them.  Will  you  prom- 
ise to  be  happy  while  we're  gone?" 

"Yes,  dearie,  just  happy  thinking  of  your  com- 
ing back  and  the  flowers,"  she  agreed,  and  the 
smile  remained  on  her  lips  even  after  the  door 
closed  behind  them  until  the  sound  of  their  light 
footsteps  and  laughter  faded  away. 

Then  the  brave  lips  drooped  and  the  gray  head 
went  down  upon  her  arms. 

"They're  such  lovely  little  ladies,"  she  mur- 
mured to  herself.  "An*  I  will  try  to  be  happy. 
Only — I  want  my  boy,  my  little  son — my 
baby " 

Meanwhile — 

"Isn't  she  the  dearest  thing?"  asked  Amy  of 
Betty  as  they  went  into  the  kitchen  to  gather  up 
the  picnic  baskets.  "I'm  getting  so  fond  of  her 
it  will  just  hurt  like  everything  to  have  her  go 
away." 

"Go  away?  Oh,  Amy!"  cried  the  Little  Cap- 
tain in  surprise,  facing  her  as  though  that  possi- 
bility had  not  yet  entered  her  mind. 


94    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Why,  yes,"  repeated  Amy,  astonished  at 
Betty's  amazement.  "She's  almost  well  now,  and, 
of  course,  she's  too  independent  to  want  to  stay 
here  when  she's  all  right  again.  Why,  Betty, 
what's  the  matter?" 

For  Betty  had  sunk  down  in  one  of  the  kitchen 
chairs  and  was  regarding  her  tragically. 

"But,  Amy,  she  mustn't  go  away,"  she  argued 
weakly,  knowing  that  she  really  had  no  argu- 
ment at  all.  "Why,  I  really  can't  imagine  it !  I 
— I  never  thought " 

"Well,  of  course,  none  of  us  wants  her  to," 
Amy  admitted,  adding  reasonably :  "But  I  really 
don't  see  how  we're  going  to  stop  her  if  she 
makes  up  her  mind  to  go.  Do  you?" 

Betty  picked  up  one  of  the  hampers  and  they 
walked  slowly  back  through  the  hall  to  the  front 
porch. 

"Why  no,  not  exactly,"  she  said  thoughtfully, 
then  added,  with  a  sudden  gleam  in  her  eyes: 
"Unless— unless " 

"Unless    what?"    queried    Amy    breathlessly. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  whether  you'd  call  it  an 
idea  or  just  plain  foolishness,"  answered  Betty, 
striving  to  speak  carelessly.  "I  was  just  think- 
ing that  we  might  persuade  her  to  stay  longer  on 
the  plea  that  we  wanted  to  bring  the  motorcyclist 
to  justice  and  needed  her  identification." 


POLITE  KIDNAPPERS  95 

Amy  looked  a  little  disappointed. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  she  said  doubtfully. 
"She  said  the  other  day  that  she  didn't  care  much 
about  bringing  the  fellow  to  justice.  She  said 
one  motorcyclist  was  as  bad  as  another,  and  the 
only  thing  that  would  give  her  satisfaction  would 
be  'to  arrest  the  whole  tribe  o*  them.' ' 

Betty  laughed  a  little  at  the  characteristic 
remark,  but  her  eyes  were  troubled. 

"Well,"  she  said  with  a  sigh,  "I  suppose  you're 
right.  She  is  rather  hard  to  reason  with  at  times. 
If  only  I  could  think  of  something." 

The  sharp  toot  of  a  horn  as  Mollie  grazed  the 
curb  with  the  huge  touring  car  put  an  end  to  the 
conversation  for  the  time  being.  Grace  was  al- 
ready on  the  porch,  and  as  they  raced  down  the 
steps  the  girls'  spirits  rose  happily. 

After  all,  it  was  a  perfect  summer  day,  the  sun 
shone  brilliantly  down  upon  them,  the  wind  ca- 
ressed their  faces,  and,  above  all,  they  were 
young. 

It  was  not  till  they  were  several  miles  out  upon 
the  shining  road  that  Betty  once  more  thought  of 
Mrs.  Sanderson. 

"We  might,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  as  though 
speaking  to  herself,  "tell  her  that  we  were  trying 
to  find  her  son.  That  might  have  some  effect 
upon  her." 


96    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Upon  whom?"  asked  Mollie,  nearly  running 
the  car  into  a  tree  by  the  roadside  in  an  effort 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  Betty. 

"Oh,  Mollie,  do  be  careful,"  cried  Amy  plain- 
tively. "I  never  come  out  with  you  but  what  I 
expect  to  be  killed." 

"I  should  think  you'd  be  tired  expecting  by  this 
time,"  returned  Mollie  practically.  "Now  will 
you  please  repeat  that  somewhat  meaningless 
jumble  of  words,  Betty  dear?  What  was  it — 
something  about  somebody's  son  having  a  good 
effect  upon  somebody " 

"Well,  I  hope  you  feel  better,  now  that  you've 
gotten  it  out  of  your  system,"  drawled  Grace. 
"Now,  Betty,  go  on.  I'll  keep  her  quiet  with 
chocolates  till  you've  had  your  say." 

"Go  on  talking  all  night,  will  you,  Betty  dear?" 
entreated  Mollie,  speaking  thickly  because  of  a 

mouthful  of  chocolate.  "Home  was  never " 

But  here  Grace  inserted  another  bonbon  so  deftly 
that  Mollie  choked  and  almost  precipitated  an- 
other appalling  accident. 

"For  goodness  sakes,  hurry,  Betty !"  cried  Amy, 
in  dismay.  "If  you  don't,  there  won't  be  anything 
of  us  left  to  listen  to  you." 

"Well,"  said  Betty  obediently,  for  she  had  been 
so  busy  with  her  own  thoughts  that  half  the 
persiflage  and  gay  bantering  had  passed  above 


POLITE  KIDNAPPERS  97 

her  head,  "I  was  speaking  of  Mrs.  Sanderson 
and  her  son.  I  thought  that  if  we  told  her  we 
were  trying  to  find  her  Willie,  she  might  consent 
to  stay  on  with  us  a  little  longer." 

"But  wouldn't  that  be  rather  raising  false 
hopes  ?"  objected  Grace.  "We  haven't  very  much 
chance  of  really  making  such  a  promise  good, 
you  know." 

"Well,  but  if  we  tried  hard  enough  we  might 
think  of  something,"  Betty  insisted.  "We 
might,"  she  added  vaguely,  "We  might — adver- 
tise  " 

"In  what  ?"  queried  Amy. 

"The  papers,  of  course,"  Betty  answered  impa- 
tiently. 

"Well,"  said  Mollie,  chewing  down  the  last  bit 
of  chocolate  and  speaking  thoughtfully,  "there 
may  be  something  in  your  idea,  at  that,  Betty.  I 
don't  know  about  the  others,  but  I'm  with  you, 
anyway." 


CHAPTER  XII 

WHERE  LOVE  IS  DEAF 

"DOESN'T  it  seem  funny,"  Amy  was  saying 
as  she  daintily  but  thoroughly  gnawed  a  chicken 
bone,  "not  to  have  the  boys  with  us  ?" 

"Well,  I  think,"  returned  Mollie,  her  nose  at 
an  independent  angle,  "that  it's  mighty  nice — for 
a  change." 

"Yes,"  Grace  agreed,  employing  her  paper 
napkin  to  remedy  the  damage  done  by  a  vivid 
spot  of  jelly  on  her  skirt.  "They  seem  to  think 
they  can  dictate  to  us.  Imagine  it !  To  us !  Out- 
door girls  who  have  never  known  what  it  was  to 
take  dictation  from  any  one !" 

"Except  our  Daddies,"  Betty  broke  in,  her  eyes 
twinkling.  "I've  seen  even  you  stand  at  attention, 
Gracie  dear,  when  Mr.  Ford  spoke." 

"Oh  well,  of  course,"  said  Grace,  dismissing  the 
interruption  with  a  wave  of  her  hand.  "We've 
got  to  obey  our  oarents,  till  we're  twenty-one 
anyway." 

"Then  I  guess  we've  got  to  go  on  obeying  all 
98 


WHERE   LOVE    IS   DEAF 


99 


the  rest  of  our  lives,"  said  Mollie,  with  a  sigh. 

They  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"For  who,"  she  went  on  to  explain  reasonably, 
"in  her  right  senses  is  going  to  admit  to  being 
twenty-one  ?" 

"To  finish  what  I  was  saying,"  Grace  contin- 
ued, while  Betty  and  Amy  chuckled  and  Mollie 
looked  wide-eyed  and  innocent :  "I,  for  one,  will 
never  take  dictation  from  any  one  outside  the 
home  folks — especially  mere  boys  our  own  age." 

"Well,  no  one  asked  you  to,"  said  Mollie 
calmly.  "I  really  don't  see  what  all  the  speech- 
making's  about,"  she  added. 

"It  was  about  the  boys,"  said  Amy,  mumbling 
over  her  third  piece  of  chicken. 

"And  by  the  way  they  take  it  for  granted  we've 
got  to  do  what  they  say,"  finished  Grace. 

"Well,"  said  Betty,  plucking  a  piece  of  grass 
and  rolling  it  thoughtfully  between  her  fingers, 
"don't  you  think  perhaps  they  act  that  way  be- 
cause they're  going  'across*  so  soon?" 

"I  don't  see  what  that's  got  to  do  with  it,"  re- 
turned Mollie,  puzzled.  "I  should  think  that 
would  make  them  want  to  be  especially  nice  to 
us — leave  a  good  impression,  you  know." 

"Just  the  same  I  can't  help  thinking,"  Betty 
persisted,  "that  that  was  why  they  acted  so 
queerly  about  Sergeant  Mullins.  Maybe  they 


100    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

think  that  when  they're  several  thousand  miles 
away  the  other  boys  will  have  their  chance." 

"But  that's  silly,"  objected  Mollie.  "As  if  we 
wouldn't  think  a  good  deal  more  of  them  when 
they  get  over  there." 

"Distance  lends  enchantment?"  queried  Grace, 
with  lifted  eyebrows. 

"Goose,"  commented  Mollie. 

"Goodness,"  cried  Grace  plaintively,  "that's  the 
second  time  I've  been  called  a  goose  in  the  last 
five  minutes.  Pretty  soon  I'll  be  a  whole  flock 
of  them!" 

The  girls  laughed,  and  Mollie  said  with  aggra- 
vating condescension: 

"It's  hard  sometimes  to  tell  the  truth,  Grace 
dear,  but  we  only  do  it  for  your  own  good.  That's 
what  friendship  is  for,  you  know." 

"Then  give  me  enemies !"  cried  Grace.  "I  don't 
care  how  many  faults  I  have  if  people  just  won't 
tell  me  about  them." 

"Which  reminds  me  of  something,"  said 
Mollie  with  a  chuckle. 

"Well,  don't  tell  us  about  it,"  said  Grace 
hastily.  "I'm  trying  hard  to  love  you,  Mollie,  but 
I  can't  stand  everything " 

"Oh,  but  it's  a  joke  on  me  this  time,"  Mollie 
reassured  her,  and  Grace  sat  back  with  a  sigh 
of  relief. 


WHERE   LOVE   IS   DEAF  IQI 

"It  happened  while  we  were  at  Pine  Island," 
Mollie  continued  with  a  chuckle.  "I  was  sitting 
in  the  living  room  playing  the  piano " 

"Or  trying  to  ?"  interrupted  Grace. 

"Or  trying  to,"  agreed  Mollie  with  perfect 
good-nature.  "You  know  my  repertoire  consists 
of  two  pieces,  and  I  was  humming  one  of  them 
as  I  played. 

"Frank  and  Roy  were  sitting  on  the  steps  of 
the  porch  outside  and  I  heard  Frank  say  to  Roy 
very  earnestly: 

"  'Do  you  know,  I  think  Mollie  would  have  a 
wonderful  voice  if  she  would  only  have  it  culti- 
vated. "' 

"Goodness,  I  thought "  began  Grace,  but 

the  Little  Captain  very  hastily  pinched  her  into 
silence. 

"Evidently  they  thought  I  couldn't  hear  them," 
Mollie  continued.  "But  they  were  mistaken,  for 
I  heard  Roy  answer  pityingly,  'Say,  old  man, 
I've  heard  of  love  being  blind  before,  but  here's 
a  case  where  the  poor  little  god  is  deaf/  * 

"Mollie,"  cried  Amy,  shocked,  while  the  others 
laughed  merrily,  "what  did  Frank  say?  Did  he 
stand  for  that  ?" 

"Most  decidedly  not,"  chuckled  Mollie.  "The 
last  I  saw  of  them,  Frank  was  leaping  a  fence, 
hanging  on  to  Roy's  coat  tails.  It  was  awfully 


102    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

funny.  I  think  I  laughed  for  an  hour  after- 
ward." 

"It  was  a  wonder  there  was  enough  of  poor 
Roy  left  to  come  home,"  giggled  Betty.  "Frank 
isn't  what  you  might  call  gentle,  when  his  temper 
is  roused." 

"Oh,  I  believe  I  know  when  that  was  now!" 
exclaimed  Grace,  with  sudden  animation.  "It 
must  have  been  that  evening  when  I  was  baking 
biscuits  and  I  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw 
Roy.  He  looked  like  a  tramp,  hair  all  disheveled 
and  face  as  red  as  a  beat. 

"I  called  to  him  and  asked  him  if  he'd  been 
in  a  fight  or  something,  and  he  just  got  redder 
than  ever  and  backed  off  into  the  woods. 

"I  concluded  he'd  gone  suddenly  and  vio- 
lently insane,  and  as  the  aroma  of  nearly  burned 
biscuits  filled  the  air  I  promptly  forgot  all  about 
him." 

Mollie  chuckled. 

"There  was  probably  a  very  good  reason  for 
his  backing  off,"  she  said.  "I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  after  that  he  kept  his  meditations  to  himself." 

"Yes,"  said  Grace,  with  gentle  malice,  "I've 
long  since  concluded  that  it's  better  to  keep  still 
about  personal  matters,  no  matter  what  you 
think." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  have,"  said  gentle  Amy 


WHERE   LOVE   IS  DEAF  103 

with  sudden  spirit:  "But  I  must  say  I  never 
noticed  it" 

Grace  struck  a  dramatic  attitude. 

"And  you  too,  Amy?"  she  cried.  "Ah,  this  is 
too  much " 

"Yes,  it's  all  right,  dear,"  soothed  Betty,  hastily 
rescuing  a  basket.  "But  please  don't  step  on  the 
lunch.  These  baskets  cost  four  dollars  and 
ninety-eight  cents  at  a  bargain  sale." 

"Oh,  how  sordid  of  you,  Betty,"  chuckled 
Mollie.  "As  if  Grace  cared  for  a  mere  little  five- 
dollar  bill." 

"Goodness,  I  don't  know  whether  I  do  or  not," 
remarked  Grace  plaintively.  "It's  so  long  since 
I've  seen  one  I  can't  tell." 

"As  Allen  remarks,"  laughed  Betty,  as  she 
gathered  up  the  remains  of  the  lunch,  "  'money 
must  think  you're  dead.' ' 

They  laughed  at  her,  and  then  suddenly  Betty 
changed  the  subject. 

"You  know,  I  overheard  something  the  other 
day,"  she  said,  "that's  just  made  me  terribly  blue 
whenever  I've  let  myself  think  of  it." 

"Oh,  Betty,"  gasped  Mollie,  jumping  unerr- 
ingly to  the  catastrophe  they  had  been  dreading 
all  these  months,  "do  you  mean  the  boys  have 
got  their  orders?" 

"Oh,  no,  I  don't  actually  know  a  thing,"  Betty 


104    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

hastened  to  assure  her,  but  there  was  a  brilliant 
light  of  excitement  in  her  eyes  that  did  not  reas- 
sure the  girls. 

"Then  what  do  you  mean?"  cried  Mollie  im- 
patiently. "Oh,  Betty  dear,  I  just  haven't  real- 
ized how  awful  it  will  be  until  this  minute.  When 
those  boys  have  actually  gone,  I'll  lie  down  and 
die,  that's  all." 

"Well,  for  goodness  sake,  don't  tell  them 
that,"  beseeched  Grace.  "Then  they  will  think 
they  can  dictate." 

"Well,  let  'em,"  said  Mollie  recklessly.  "They 
can,  for  all  I  care." 

"Go  on,  Betty,  do,"  urged  Amy,  her  hands 
clasping  and  unclasping  nervously.  "Tell  us 
what  it  was  you  heard." 

"Well,  Major  Adams  was  talking  with  the 
colonel,"  Betty  complied,  her  color  bright,  "and 
I  just  happened  to  catch  a  couple  of  phrases  as 
I  passed. 

"  'In  a  week !'  the  major  was  saying  eagerly. 
'The  boys  will  be  glad  of  that,  Colonel.  I've 
had  all  I  could  do  to  keep  them  pacified  at  all. 
Once  let  them  get  at  the  Huns  and  it  will  be  all 
over  but  the  shouting/ 

"  'Yes,  they're  a  fine  bunch  of  young  fighters/ 
the  colonel  answered.  And,  oh  girls,  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  the  way  he  looked,  so  splendidly 


WHERE   LOVE   IS   DEAF  105 

straight  and  martial  and  proud.  'I  tell  you, 
Major,'  he  said,  'it's  a  great  thing  to  have  the 
leadership  of  such  lads  as  those.  They're  the 
pick  of  the  nation.' 

"And  then  I  went  on  and  my  heart  was  beat- 
ing so  hard  I  had  to  hold  on  to  it,"  Betty  finished. 
"It  seemed  to  me  I  could  almost  hear  the  cannon 
and  see  the  boys — our  boys " 

Her  voice  trailed  off  into  silence,  and  for  a 
long  time  no  one  spoke.  Each  one  of  these  young 
girls,  who,  a  few  short  months  before,  had 
scarcely  known  the  meaning  of  the  word  war 
except  as  they  had  read  about  it  in  their  histories, 
was  striving  desperately  to  visualize  the  battle 
front — the  trenches,  great  guns  belching  forth  a 
deadly  hail  of  shells,  the  roar  of  cannon,  the 
moans  of  dying  men 

And  there,  perhaps,  in  the  mire  and  horror  of 
it  all — the  boys — their  boys 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  COPPERHEAD 

BETTY  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"But,  of  course,"  she  said,  and  they  started 
at  the  sound  of  her  voice — so  far  away  had  their 
thoughts  been  wandering,  "it  may  only  be  one 
more  of  those  rumors  the  boys  are  always  talk- 
ing about." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Grace,  with  a  sigh.  "Any- 
way, it  won't  do  any  good  to  worry  about  it  till 
the  time  comes." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mollie  a  little  irri- 
tably. "It's  like  having  a  sword  hanging  over 
your  head  all  the  time.  I'd  just  as  soon  have  it 
cut  me  in  two  now  and  get  it  over  with." 

"Yes,  it  is  something  like  cutting  the  poor  dog's 
tail  off  an  inch  at  a  time,"  sighed  Amy,  and  at 
the  comparison  and  her  sober  countenance  they 
had  to  laugh  despite  the  very  real  trouble  at  their 
hearts. 

"I  wish,"  said  Betty  wistfully  after  a  while, 
"the  boys  could  have  gotten  leave  to-day.  I 
106 


THE  COPPERHEAD  107 

should  like  to  have  just  one  more  picnic  with 
them.  We've  had  such  good  times  together.  And 
we're  going  to  have  lots  more,"  she  added,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet  with  a  sudden,  swift  smile. 
"That's  our  part  of  the  business  from  now  on. 
Just  to  keep  smiling  and  make  up  our  minds  that 
they're  coming  back  to  us  just  as  they  went — only 
better." 

"They  couldn't  be,"  declared  Amy,  and  once 
more  the  other  Outdoor  Girls  laughed  and 
hugged  her. 

"Anyway,  they've  got  one  good  backer  in  you, 
Amy  dear,"  said  Betty  fondly.  "You've  no  idea 
how  fond  all  the  boys  are  of  you.  I  declare, 
sometimes  I'm  almost  jealous." 

"You,"  cried  Amy  incredulously,  looking  at 
the  flushed  face  and  shining  eyes.  "You'll  never 
need  to  be  jealous  of  anybody  in  your  life  Betty 
Nelson — and  especially  of  me/  she  added  mod- 
estly. 

Betty  laughed  and  hugged  her  again. 

"Girls,  it's  getting  late,"  she  said  suddenly,  with 
another  of  her  swift  changes  of  subject.  "I 
guess  perhaps  it's  time  we  were  starting  back. 
Oh,  I  forgot,"  she  added,  in  consternation,  "I,  or 
rather,  Amy  and  I,  promised  Mrs.  Sanderson  we'd 
gather  some  flowers  for  her,  and  now  we've  got 
to  do  it,  even  if  it  is  late " 


108    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Of  course  we  have,"  agreed  Mollie,  rising 
with  alacrity.  "It  wouldn't  do  at  all  to  disap- 
point her.'* 

"It  must  have  been  a  pretty  lonely  day  for 
her,"  said  Amy  thoughtfully,  as  she  snapped  the 
lid  of  a  basket  shut.  "I  wish  she  had  come 
with  us." 

"Well,  we're  pretty  much  in  the  same  boat  as 
she  is — or  will  be  soon,"  mused  Mollie,  as  the 
girls  scattered  to  make  good  Betty's  promise. 

"How  so  ?"  queried  Amy. 

"Why,"  said  Mollie,  "she's  already  lost  her  boy 
and  now  we're  about  to  lose  ours." 

"Goodness,  Mollie,"  cried  Grace  indignantly, 
while  the  others  chuckled,  "you  make  me  feel 
eighty  years  old.  They're  not  our  sons,  you 
know." 

"Of  course  you  had  to  tell  me  that " 

Mollie  was  beginning,  when  a  scream  from  Amy 
and  a  hurried  scramble  onto  a  convenient  stump 
interrupted  her. 

"What  is  it?"  they  cried,  running  to  her 
anxiously. 

"Look  out,  look  out,"  Amy  cried,  bringing  them 
up  with  a  sharp  turn  a  couple  of  feet  from  her 
perch. 

"What  is  it?"  they  cried  again,  looking  wildly 
about  them. 


THE   COPPERHEAD  109 

"A  snake,"  she  screamed.  "Look  out,  Grace, 
it's  coming  for  you !  Oh,  look  out !" 

Wide-eyed  and  open-mouthed,  the  girls  looked 
where  Amy  pointed,  and  saw,  wriggling  omi- 
nously toward  them  through  the  short  grass,  a 
large  coppery-headed  snake. 

Grace  gave  one  desperate  leap  and  landed  be- 
side Amy  on  the  stump  while  Betty  and  Mollie 
stepped  to  one  side  out  of  the  reptile's  path. 
Then,  almost  miraculously — or  so  Betty  thought 
when  she  looked  back  upon  it  afterward — her  eye 
fell  upon  a  forked  twig  lying  at  her  feet. 

Quick  as  light  she  stooped  and  picked  it  up, 
then  turned  to  Mollie,  who  was  standing  backed 
up  against  a  tree,  white-faced,  terrified,  in  a  half- 
hypnotized  condition,  staring  at  the  snake. 

The  reptile  had  coiled  itself  and  lay  hissing  at 
them  viciously. 

"I'm  going  to  hold  out  this  stick,"  whispered 
Betty  feverishly  between  lips  that  scarcely  moved, 
"and  when  he  strikes,  pick  up  that  rock  at  your 
feet  and  let  him  have  it.  Ready?" 

"Y-yes,"  stammered  poor  Mollie,  terrified,  yet 
game  to  the  last.  "Oh,  Betty " 

But  the  sentence  was  never  finished  for,  with 
a  menacing  movement,  Betty  had  thrust  the  stick 
toward  the  reptile  and  the  latter  with  a  hiss  had* 
struck. 


HO    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Quick  as  a  flash  and  before  the  snake  had 
time  to  coil  again,  Mollie  picked  up  the  rock  and 
hurled  it  at  his  sinister  copper  head.  Her  aim  was 
true,  and  the  long,  slithery  body,  robbed  of  its 
deadliness,  writhed  and  beat  furiously  at  the 
short  stubbly  grass. 

Mollie  put  her  hands  before  her  eyes,  shiver- 
ing, and  even  Betty  leaned  weakly  against  a  tree, 
faint  and  sick,  now  that  the  crisis  had  passed. 

"I — I  thought  you'd  be  k-killed,"  moaned  Amy, 
and  though  the  tears  of  excitement  and  horror 
were  rolling  down  her  cheeks,  she  would  have 
been  the  first  to  deny  it  had  you  told  her  she  was 
crying.  "Oh,  B-Betty,  you're  w-wonderful !" 

"No  I'm  not — I'm  just  scared  stiff,"  cried 
Betty  hysterically.  "Anyway,  M-Mollie  did  it 
all." 

"Well,  let's  g-get  out  of  here,"  cried  Grace. 
Later  they  had  time  to  laugh  at  the  chattering 
teeth  that  made  it  impossible  to  say  anything 
without  stammering — but  it  seemed  anything  but 
funny  to  them  then.  "Let's  g-get  out !" 

"Second  the  motion,"  cried  Betty,  with  a  wry 
little  twist  to  her  mouth,  being,  as  usual,  the  first 
to  recover  her  self  control.  "I  can't  see  any  sense 
in  lingering." 

A  few  seconds  later  they  had  gathered  up  their 
belongings  and  jumped  thankfully  into  the  road 


THE   COPPERHEAD  m 

—out  of  sight  of  that  sinister  body  still  writhing 
in  the  grass. 

It  was  not  until  they  had  climbed  into  the  car 
and  were  whirling  over  the  smooth  road  at  a 
rapid  rate  that  they  began  to  feel  like  themselves 
again. 

"I  guess  that  was  one  of  the  narrowest  escapes 
we  ever  had,"  said  Mollie  over  her  shoulder  with 
a  laugh  that  was  still  a  little  unsteady.  "I  guess 
we  won't  go  picnicking  in  the  woods  alone  again 
for  quite  some  time." 

"But  I  didn't  know  there  were  any  snakes 
around  here,"  said  Grace  wonderingly,  and,  it 
must  be  admitted,  still  with  a  little  quaver  in  her 
voice. 

"There  aren't  many,"  Betty  explained.  "Allen 
told  me  that  poisonous  snakes  of  any  sort  had 
been  so  rarely  seen  around  these  parts  that  people 
thought  the  stories  of  them  were  made  up.  He 
said  they  always  looked  suspiciously  at  the  bear- 
ers of  the  snake  tales,  shrugged  their  shoulders, 
winked,  and  asked  each  other  to  guess  where 
So-and-So  had  been  the  night  before." 

"Goodness,"  cried  Mollie.     "I   suppose  we'll 

never  dare  to  tell  it  then.  They'll  think  we 
ar<» » 

"Slightly  inebriated,"  finished  Betty  drolly. 
"Goodness,  I  don't  know  what  that  means," 


112    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

objected  Mollie,  "but  it  sounds  worse  than  what 
I  was  going  to  say.  Now  what's  the  matter?" 

This  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  a  sudden, 
grinding  noise  within  the  machine  and  a  jerking 
stop  that  jarred  them  all  nearly  out  of  their  seats. 

Mollie  looked  back  over  her  shoulder  with  a 
despairing  expression: 

"Well,  this  certainly  isn't  our  lucky  day,"  she 
said,  with  forced  calm.  "First  we  nearly  get 
eaten  up  by  a  snake,  and  then  the  car  breaks 
down " 

"But,  Mollie,  what's  the  matter?"  cried  Grace 
impatiently.  "We  can't  stay  here.  Can't  you 
see  ? — there's  a  storm  coming  up." 

"Well  I  didn't  do  it,"  snapped  Mollie.  "I  do 
think,  Grace,  you  can  be  the  most  unreason- 
able  " 

"Oh,  please  don't  start  anything  else,"  cried 
Betty,  herself  a  little  on  edge  with  the  rather 
exciting  day's  events.  "Let's  get  out  and  see  if 
we  can  find  what's  wrong.  We  certainly  can't 
do  any  good  by  talking  about  it." 

They  got  out,  and  Mollie  even  consented  to 
"get  under,"  but  all  to  no  avail.  The  machine 
refused  to  be  placated  and  stood  stubbornly  still 
in  the  middle  of  the  road  while  the  storm  clouds 
gathered  and  the  first  drops  began  to  fall. 

"Well,"  Mollie  decided  at  last,  sitting  miser- 


THE   COPPERHEAD  113 

ably  on  the  running  board,  "I  guess  we've  either 
got  to  sit  here  all  night  or  walk  home  and  trust 
to  luck  the  car  doesn't  get  stolen." 

"Also  get  soaked  through  ourselves,"  Grace  was 
adding  disconsolately,  when  a  familiar  sound 
caught  their  ears.  It  was  the  regular  tramp, 
tramp  of  marching  men. 

"Some  of  the  boys  from  the  camp!"  cried 
Mollie,  springing  up  joyfully.  "Maybe  they'll 
help  us." 

As  the  small  squad  swung  around  the  turn  in 
the  road  they  were  delighted  to  see  that  Sergeant 
Mullins  was  in  charge.  He  brought  the  boys  to 
a  sharp  halt  at  sight  of  them,  and  came  forward 
to  meet  them,  saluting  gravely. 

"Are  you  in  trouble  ?"  he  asked,  with  his  quiet 
smile  and  a  glance  at  the  stalled  machine.  "May 
I  help?" 

"Oh,  would  you  ?"  cried  Betty,  her  pretty  fore- 
head puckered.  "We  do  want  to  get  back  before 
the  storm  breaks." 

Without  a  word,  the  young  fellow  removed  his 
jacket  and  examined  the  machine  carefully. 
Then,  with  equal  gravity,  he  wormed  his  way 
under  the  car. 

In  what  seemed  to  the  girls  no  more  than  a 
minute,  he  reappeared  and  smiled  at  them. 

"I  guess  it's  all  right  now,"  he  assured  them 


114    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

with  another  punctilious  salute.  "If  I  might  sug- 
gest that  there's  no  time  to  be  lost "  with  a 

significant  glance  toward  the  lowering  sky.  For 
answer,  MolHe  threw  in  the  clutch  and  the  ma- 
chine purred  evenly.  Then,  with  a  little  impulsive 
gesture,  she  turned  to  the  sergeant. 

"It's — it's  a  long  way  to  Camp  Liberty,"  she 
said,  with  pretty  hesitation.  "Won't  you  let  us 
show  you  how  grateful  we  are  by  letting  us  take 
you  there?" 

"Please  do,"  urged  Betty. 

He  considered  a  moment,  then  with  another 
of  his  grave  smiles  saluted  once  more  and  turned 
to  the  boys  who  stood  waiting  in  the  road. 

"Pile  in,  fellows !"  he  said.  "We'll  just  about 
make  it  before  the  storm." 

Then,  while  the  boys  obeyed,  scrambling  in  any 
way,  and  Betty  and  Grace  squeezed  themselves 
into  the  front  seat,  Sergeant  Mullins  leaned  over 
and  said,  very  quietly : 

"Thank  you." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  REINS  TIGHTEN 

"A  WEEK!"  sighed  Betty.  "Oh,  Mollie  dear, 
a  week's  such  a  very  little  time!" 

"Goodness,  it  isn't  even  that  now,"  Mollie  re- 
turned, dropping  a  stitch  in  the  sweater  she  was 
making  and  not  even  noticing  it — an  almost  un- 
heard of  procedure.  "That  is,"  she  added,  with 
a  slight  little  flicker  of  hope,  "if  you're  sure  you 
heard  the  major  aright,  Betty.  Mightn't  he  have 
been  speaking  of  something  else?" 

"Well,  I  told  you  what  he  said,"  answered 
Betty,  a  trifle  impatiently,  for  she  also  had 
dropped  a  stitch  and  saw  before  her  the  weary 
process  of  ripping  out  two  whole  rows  of  her 
helmet — and  helmets  were  such  mean  things  to 
make,  anyway! 

"When  he  spoke  of  a  week,"  she  added,  ripping 
vindictively,  "and  then  said  that  the  boys  would 
be  glad  the  waiting  was  over,  it  seems  to  me 
there's  just  about  one  conclusion  we  can  come 
to." 

"5 


Il6    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Oh,  all  right,  but  you  needn't  be  so  cross  about 
it,"  returned  Mollie,  who,  being  very  cross  her- 
self, could  not  make  allowance  for  the  malady  in 
any  one  else. 

"Have  you  seen  any  of  the  boys  lately?"  she 
asked,  after  an  interval  of  deep  concentration. 
"We've  been  kept  so  busy  here  at  the  Hostess 
House  lately  with  these  other  boys  that  our  boys 
might  as  well  be  dead  and  buried  for  all  I've  seen 
of  them." 

"Who's  talking  about  being  dead  and  buried  ?" 
demanded  a  third  voice,  and  they  turned  to  see 
Grace  in  the  doorway  with  the  inevitable  candy 
box  under  her  arm. 

"Can't  you  choose  a  more  cheerful  subject?" 
she  added,  coming  in  and  seating  herself  luxuri- 
ously in  a  big  chair.  "There's  enough  of  that 
being  done  anyway " 

"You  talk  as  if  getting  dead  and  buried  were 
some  sort  of  new  indoor  sport,"  interrupted 
Mollie,  glad  to  have  this  old  familiar  enemy  to 
spar  with. 

"Goodness,  there's  no  more  sport  in  anything," 
returned  Grace,  disconsolately.  "I  don't  see  why 
any  old  swell-headed  German " 

"Grace!"  exclaimed  Betty,  but  with  twinkling 
eyes.  "What  language !" 

"Oh,  I  could  do  lots  better  than  that,"  re- 


THE    REINS    TIGHTEN  117 

turned  Grace  tranquilly,  "if  I  weren't  In  polite 
society." 

"You  flatter  us,"  murmured  Mollie. 

"I  know  it,"  Grace  retorted,  still  calmly. 
"Anyway,  I  was  remarking  that  I  didn't  see  why 
any  swell-headed  old  German  was  allowed  to  take 
the  world  by  the  ears  and  turn  it  upside 
down " 

"Gee,  who's  allowing  him?"  cried  a  masculine 
voice  from  the  door,  and  the  girls  turned  with  a 
chorus  of  greetings  to  welcome  Roy. 

"We  were  just  saying  we  thought  you  were 
dead,"  remarked  Mollie  somberly,  never  lifting 
her  eyes  from  the  sweater  as  he  seated  himself 
beside  her. 

"Sorry  to  disappoint  you,"  he  replied  cheer- 
fully. "As  Frank  remarked  unflatteringly  this 
morning,  'You  are  far  from  being  a  dead  one — 
go  and  reform.' ' 

"Was  he  speaking  of  me?"  demanded  Mollie 
Billette  in  deadly  quiet,  but  Roy  raised  a  placat- 
ing hand. 

"No,  no,  of  course  not,"  he  said  hurriedly. 
"He  was  speaking  of  me,  poor  worm  that  I  am. 
But,  I  say,"  he  added,  looking  around  at  the 
busily  flying  needles,  "what's  the  idea  of  the  knit- 
ting. We've  got  more  sweaters  and  things  than 
we  know  what  to  do  with  now." 


Il8    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Mollie  lifted  her  eyes  long  enough  to  give  him 
a  withering  glance. 

"Do  you  think  you're  the  only  ones  we  care 
about?" 

"I  hope  so,"  he  responded  promptly  and  dar- 
ingly. 

"Do  you  think  Vnaybe  we'd  better  leave,  Betty?" 
inquired  Grace  with  delicately  lifted  eyebrows, 
while  Mollie  flushed  scarlet. 

"If  you  do,  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again," 
cried  the  latter,  in  alarm,  adding,  to  change  the 
subject:  "Where  are  the  other  boys,  Roy?  You 
usually  travel  in  fours." 

"Well,  as  long  as  you  didn't  say  on  all  fours, 
it's  all  right,"  responded  Roy  in  a  weak  attempt 
at  a  joke  that  focused  three  pairs  of  girlish  eyes 
scornfully  upon  him. 

"Roy !"  they  chorused. 

"All  right,  don't  shoot,"  he  pleaded.  "What 
was  that  you  asked  me,  Mollie?" 

"I  asked  you,"  returned  Mollie,  with  delibera- 
tion, "where  the  other  boys  were." 

"I  don't  know,  and  what's  more  I  don't  care," 
replied  Roy  independently,  leaning  back  and 
crossing  his  long  legs  with  a  sigh  of  content. 
"We've  all  been  trying  to  get  leave  to  come  over 
and  see  you  girls,  and  so  far  I'm  the  only  one 
who's  succeeded.  The  old  boy,  that  is,  the 


THE   REINS   TIGHTEN  119 

colonel,"  he  corrected  himself,  gravely  saluting 
the  imaginary  officer,  "is  drawing  the  reins 
pretty  tight  these  days.  Looks,"  he  added,  striv- 
ing to  keep  the  excitement  out  of  his  voice,  "pretty 
much  like  business." 

"Like  business,"  they  repeated  in  chorus,  and 
were  about  to  follow  it  up  with  a  shower  of 
questions  when  there  was  the  sound  of  more  mas- 
culine voices  in  the  hall  and  the  missing  members 
of  the  quartette  precipitated  themselves  upon  the 
assembled  company.  Roy  looked  disgusted — the 
girls  happy. 

"So  you  thought  you'd  have  the  field  all  to 
yourself,  did  you?"  Allen  demanded  of  the  dis- 
consolate Roy.  "Well,  that's  the  time  you 
counted  your  chickens  too  soon." 

Then,  turning  to  Betty,  he  caught  her  two 
hands  in  his  and  waltzed  her  exuberantly  about 
the  room. 

"Betty,  Betty,"  he  cried,  his  voice  keen,  his  eyes 
shining  with  excitement,  "we've  got  special  per- 
mission to  tell  you,  because  you're  in  the  service. 
We're  going,  little  girl!  We're  on  our  way  to 
lick  the  tar  out  of  those  Huns !" 

"Allen!"  Betty's  face  went  suddenly  white 
and  she  sank  down  on  the  arm  of  a  chair,  regard- 
ing him  with  wide,  dark  eyes.  The  other  three 
boys  with  Mollie  and  Grace  were  gathered  in  the 


120    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

opposite  corner  of  the  room,  chattering  like 
magpies. 

"It's — it's  really  come?"  she  demanded,  un- 
steadily. "Oh,  Allen,  when?" 

"Day  after  to-morrow,"  he  replied,  his  own 
hands  shaking  a  little  as  they  closed  over  hers. 
"Are  you  going  to  congratulate  me,  Betty?" 

"A — of  course,"  she  answered,  smiling  at  him 
with  a  bravery  that  made  him  long  to  gather  her 
in  his  arms  and  comfort  her.  She  looked  so  little 
and  plucky  and  utterly  adorable. 

"Then  do  it,"  he  said  whimsically,  putting  his 
hands  behind  him  to  keep  them  out  of  temptation. 

"C-congratulations,"  she  stammered,  then  her 
lip  trembled  and  she  bit  it  to  keep  it  steady.  "I 
know  how  much  you've  been  wanting  it,"  she 
continued,  striving  for  a  matter-of-fact  tone, 
"and  so,  of  c-course,  I'm  glad  for  your  sake. 
Only " 

"Only?"  he  prompted,  gripping  his  hands  hard 
to  make  them  behave. 

"Only,"  she  added,  her  voice  scarcely  above  a 
whisper,  and  glancing  up  at  him  shyly,  "I  can't 
very  well  help  missing  you,  Allen,  just  at 
first " 

"Betty,"  he  cried,  his  hands  breaking  away 
from  their  imprisonment  and  seeking  hers 
fiercely,  "I'm  trying  so  hard  to  do  the  right  thing, 


THE   REINS    TIGHTEN  121 

— be  honorable  and  all  that — wait  till  I  come 
back,  you  know — but  I  can't.  It — it  isn't  human 
nature.  You're  too  wonderful — too  utterly " 

"Allen,  don't!"  she  cried  breathlessly.  "You 
forget  we're  not  alone." 

"I — don't — care "  he  was  beginning  head- 

ily,  but  she  wrenched  her  hands  free,  and,  eluding 
him,  plunged  into  the  excited  group  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room. 

"Hello,  Betty,"  Mollie  cried,  her  voice  high 
with  excitement.  "I  guess  you  were  right  after 
all — only  it's  five  whole  days  sooner  than  we 
expected." 

"I — I  wish  they'd  stop  the  old  war,"  sighed 
Amy,  who  had  come  in  in  time  to  share  the  won- 
derful news.  "I  just  can't  bear  the  thought 
of  it." 

"Gee,  that  would  be  a  nice  note,"  broke  in  Will 
boyishly.  "After  all  these  weeks  of  training,  to 
have  the  war  stop  just  as  we  got  ready  to  have  a 
hand  in  it !" 

"We'll  be  lucky  if  we  don't  leave  a  couple  of 
hands  in  it,"  said  Roy,  again  trying  to  be  witty 
and  again  finding  himself  the  battery  for  a  score 
of  indignant  glances. 

"If  you  think  that's  funny,"  Grace  was  begin- 
ning when  Betty,  color  high,  heart  still  beating 
suffocatingly  from  that  brief  little  battle  with 


122    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Allen  and  her  own  inclination,  interceded  in  his 
behalf. 

"Oh,  do  leave  him  alone,"  she  cried,  patting 
Roy's  scorned  shoulder  soothingly.  "I,  for  one, 
would  forgive  him  for  anything  he  said  or  did 
just  now  without  even  being  asked." 

Roy  gave  her  a  grateful  glance  and  Allen  whis- 
pered close  in  her  ear. 

"You  can  be  kind  to  every  one  but  the  one  who 
loves  you,  Betty.  Is  that  it?" 

His  voice  was  so  low  that  no  one  but  Betty 
could  hear.  And  Betty  felt  an  added  rush  of 
color  sting  her  cheeks,  and  turned  her  eyes  away 
to  hide  the  confusion,  the  sudden  fright  in  them. 

If  they  had  been  alone  no  one  knows  what 
might  have  happened.  But,  even  as  it  was,  Allen, 
watching  the  flaming  color  and  the  downcast  eyes, 
felt  his  heart  leap  joyfully  and  was  almost — 
almost — satisfied. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   FATEFUL  DAY 

THE  rain  that  had  been  pouring  down  steadily 
all  night  stopped  about  dawn.  Betty  raised  her- 
self on  one  elbow  to  look  out  the  window  and  was 
greeted  by  a  dazzling  burst  of  sunshine,  as  the 
glorious  disc  dispersed  the  fog  and  took  posses- 
sion of  the  world. 

"A  good  omen,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  nib- 
bing the  sleepiness  from  her  eyes.  "Perhaps 
that's  how  the  Huns  will  melt  away  before  our 
boys!" 

"What  are  you  talking  to  yourself  about?" 
queried  Grace,  irritably.  "A  person  has  a  fine 
chance  to  sleep " 

"Sleep!"  cried  Betty,  indignantly.  "What  on 
earth  do  you  want  to  sleep  for?  Do  you  know 
what  day  this  is  ?" 

"Friday,"  Grace  answered  mechanically,  then 
seeing  the  point  of  the  question,  sat  up  in  bed, 
rubbing  her  eyes. 

123 


124    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Oh,  I— forgot,"  she  stammered.  "They're— 
they're  going  away,  aren't  they?" 

"Yes ;  unless,  they've  changed  their  minds  since 
last  night,"  returned  Betty  dryly.  "Oh,  Grace, 
please  don't  look  so  sleepy.  You — you  annoy 
me,"  she  finished  hysterically. 

"Well,  I'm  sorry,"  said  Grace,  trying  comic- 
ally to  appear  dignified.  "But  it  really  isn't  so 
strange  that  I  should  look  the  way  I  feel " 

"Goodness,  if  I  looked  the  way  I  feel,  I'd  be 
an  awful  mess,"  sighed  Amy  from  the  other  bed. 

"Maybe  you  do,"  chuckled  Mollie.  "Shall  I  get 
you  a  mirror?" 

"Well,  if  you'd  been  awake  almost  all  night," 
Amy  began,  but  Mollie  cut  her  short  with  a  bear's 
hug. 

"Forgive  me,  Amy,"  she  said,  with  unusual 
humility.  "I  do  know  how  awful  it  is  to  lie 
awake  nearly  all  night  and  just  think. 

"And  I  shouldn't  blame  any  one  the  least  bit," 
she  finished,  "for  calling  me  a  mess,  because  I 
know  I  am.  I'm  positively  afraid  to  look  in  the 
mirror." 

"All  right,  we'll  have  'em  all  draped  in  black, 
just  for  your  special  benefit,"  said  Grace  dryly. 
"Mollie,  where  did  you  put  my  stockings?" 

"Goodness,  what  do  you  think  I  am?"  retorted 
Mollie.  "Your  little  French  maid?" 


THE   FATEFUL   DAY  125 

"Nothing  half  so  cute,"  returned  Grace  ungra- 
ciously, while  Betty  and  Amy  exchanged  glances 
which,  interpreted,  meant :  "We'll  have  our  hands 
full  with  these  two,  to-day,  all  right." 

"Anyway,  you  didn't  answer  my  question," 
Grace  persisted.  "I  asked  you  what  you  did  with 
my  stockings." 

"Oh,  I've  got  'em  on,"  replied  Mollie  sarcas- 
tically, smothering  a  yawn.  "I  mislaid  my  slum- 
ber shoes  and  used  them  instead." 

The  girls  giggled  and  Grace  looked  around  for 
an  instrument  of  punishment.  Not  finding  any, 
she  was  forced  to  resort  to  sarcasm. 

"I  guess  you  must  have  caught  that  particular 
form  of  insanity  from  Roy,"  she  said. 

"Well,  as  long  as  it  wasn't  the  measles " 

Mollie  was  beginning  when  Amy  broke  in  with 
one  of  those  absolutely  irrelevant  remarks  of  hers, 
that  made  her  different  from  every  one  else. 

"I  wonder,"  she  said  thoughtfully,  "if  the  boys 
will  fall  in  love  with  those  nice  little  French  girls. 
They  say  they're  awfully  attractive." 

"Amy,  what  ever  put  such  a  thing  into  your 
head  ?"  cried  Betty,  while  the  other  two  stared  at 
her  wide-eyed,  not  knowing  whether  to  laugh  or 
to  be  indignant. 

"Oh — nothing,"  she  answered  vaguely.  "I  was 
just  wondering,  that's  all." 


126    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Well,"  said  Mollie,  throwing  back  the  covers 
preparatory  to  rising,  "I  might  suggest  that  the 
next  time  you  feel  it  coming  on,  you  might  choose 
something  more  comfortable,  that's  all.  Wonder- 
ing about  such  things  might  become  wearing. 
What's  that?"  she  asked,  as  a  sharp  tap  sounded 
on  the  door. 

"A  caller,  presumably,"  Grace  remarked,  as  she 
slipped  on  a  dressing  gown  and  approached  the 
door. 

The  early  morning  caller  proved  to  be,  much  to 
their  surprise  and  delight,  no  other  than  Mrs. 
Sanderson. 

The  old  lady's  eyes  were  unusually  bright,  and 
there  was  a  flush  on  her  face. 

"I  haven't  been  able  to  sleep  all  night,"  she  said, 
her  hands  fluttering  nervously  in  her  lap.  "Ever 
since  Betty  told  me  the  boys  were  going  this 
morning  I  couldn't  think  of  anything  but  just 
that  one  thing." 

"I  am  sorry  I  told  you  then  until  this  morning," 
cried  Betty,  reproaching  herself.  "I  didn't  know 
it  was  going  to  make  you  feel  bad." 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  your  fault,  dear,"  the  old  woman 
hastened  to  reassure  her.  "And  it  really  didn't 
make  me  feel  bad — not  for  them,  anyway. 
They're  lucky  to  be  able  to  fight — even  to  die — 
for  a  country  like  ours.  Only,"  she  paused,  and 


THE  FATEFUL   DAY  127 

some  of  the  light  died  out  of  her  eyes,  "I  couldn't 
help  wishing — . — " 

"Yes,"  they  prompted  gently. 

"That  my  Willie  boy  could  have  gone  with 
them,"  she  said,  the  words  so  soft  that  they  had 
to  lean  close  to  her  to  catch  them.  "I  would  have 
been  so  proud  of  him." 

The  girls  were  silent,  not  knowing  how  to  com- 
fort the  poor  old  woman. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Amy  at  last,  scarcely  knowing 
what  she  was  saying,  yet  trying  so  hard  to  com- 
fort, "he  is  a  soldier  somewhere.  There  are  so 
many  thousands  of  them,  you  know." 

Mrs.  Sanderson  turned  to  her  with  such  fierce 
emotion  in  her  eyes  that  the  girl  unconsciously 
shrank  back. 

"If  I  thought  that,"  she  said,  her  voice  tense, 
her  hands  clasped  so  tightly  in  her  lap  that  the 
knuckles  showed  white,  "I'd  be  willing,  glad,  to 
die  the  next  minute.  If  I  could  just  see*my  boy 
in  uniform — even  if  I  knew  I  could  never  see  him 

again "  her  voice  trailed  off,  and  once  more 

the  light  died  out  of  her  eyes. 

"But,  of  course,  that's  impossible,"  she  said 
wearily.  "If  my  boy  had  been  alive,  he'd  have 
come  back  to  me.  But  that  wasn't  why  I  came  in 
to  see  you  so  early,"  she  added  after  a  moment, 
straightening  up  with  that  indomitable  courage 


that  had  won,  first,  the  girls'  admiration,  then 
their  love.  "I  jest  wanted  to  find  out  when  'twas 
the  boys  was  startin'." 

"We're  not  quite  sure.  The  boys  thought  some 
time  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock,  but  they  didn't 
seem  to  be  at  all  sure  about  it.  The  only  thing 
we  really  know  is  that  they're  going  to  start 
early,"  Betty  answered. 

"Thank  you,  dear."  The  old  lady  rose,  and 
when  she  started  for  the  door  Mollie  ran  before 
her  and  opened  it. 

When  she  had  gone,  the  girls  sat  still,  just  look- 
ing at  each  other  for  a  few  minutes.  Then 

"Isn't  she  wonderful  ?"  breathed  Betty.    "After 

all  these  years  she  would  give  him  up  gladly  for 

the  sake  of  her  country.    That's  real  patriotism." 

"She  deserves  to  get  him  back,"  murmured 

Mollie,  as  though  speaking  to  herself. 

"Well,  that's  just  the  reason  she  won't,"  said 
Grace,  irritably  struggling  with  an  unruly  lock 
of  hair.  "Nobody  ever  gets  what  he  deserves  in 
this  awful  world.  What  is  the  matter  with  my 
hair  this  morning?  It  looks  just  exactly  as  I 
feel." 

"Oh,  come  away  from  the  mirror,  Grade," 
cried  Betty,  putting  an  arm  about  her  and  drag- 
ging her,  an  unwilling  victim,  out  into  the  hall. 
"You'll  feel  better  after  you've  had  your  break- 


THE   FATEFUL   DAY  129 

fast.  And  remember,"  she  added  diplomatically, 
"there's  a  brand  new  box  of  candy  in  your  left- 
hand  dresser  drawer." 

The  ruse  worked,  and  a  smile  forced  its  way 
through  Grace's  discontent.  Then  a  sudden 
thought  struck  her  and  the  smile  flickered  and 
went  out  altogether. 

"It  was  Roy's  parting  gift,"  she  said,  striving 
to  speak  lightly,  though  her  voice*  trembled  ever 
so  little.  "You  know,  Betty,"  she  said  in  a  rare 
burst  of  confidence,  "I  never  had'  the  slightest 

idea  I  could  feel  so  really  b-bad "  her  eyes 

rilled  and  she  brushed  her  hand  across  them  im- 
patiently. 

"Am  I  not  a  goose?"  she  asked  plaintively,  and 
Betty,  trying  to  laugh,  choked,  too,  and  aban- 
doned the  attempt. 

Then  they  both  smiled,  an  April  sort  of  un- 
certain smile  and  went  in  to  breakfast. 

"I  guess,"  remarked  Betty  whimsically,  just  as 
Mollie  and  Amy  ran  down  the  stairs  and  into  the 
room,  "that  we're  fast  becoming  what  you  said 
you  were  the  other  day,  Grade — a  regular  flock 
Df  geese  1" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

'SPARRING   FOR   TIME 

THE  roads  were  muddy  from  the  heavy  rain 
that  had  fallen  over  night,  but  Mollie  demurred 
when  the  girls  suggested  that  they  walk  to  the 
station  rather  than  go  in  the  automobile. 

"It  may  be  all  very  well  for  you,"  she  declared, 
"but  I  certainly  don't  feel  in  any  mood  for  taking 
a  two-mile  walk  this  morning." 

"Well,  my  knees  do  feel  kind  of  weak  and 
wobbly,"  agreed  Amy  plaintively.  "But  you 
know  how  reckless  you  are,  Mollie,  and  on  these 
wet  roads  we're  very  apt  to  skid." 

"Well,  but  what's  one  skid  more  or  less  in  a 
good  cause?"  interrupted  Betty  merrily.  "Be- 
sides, I  guess  we  wouldn't  have  time  to  walk,  any- 
way," she  added  quickly,  as  dozens  of  soldiers 
began  pouring  from  their  barracks.  "We'll  never 
be  able  to  get  to  the  station  before  the  boys  unless 
we  take  the  car." 

"Girls,  they're  really  going,"  wailed  Amy,  as 
they  quickly  got  into  their  wraps. 

130 


SPARRING  FOR  TIME  131 

"Certainly  looks  like  it,"  said  Grace  grimly,  for 
once  not  knowing  or  caring  whether  the  becoming 
little  hat  was  tilted  at  exactly  the  right  angle  or 
not.  "It  makes  me  feel  all  queer  and — wobbly 
inside." 

"Better  take  some  candy  along,"  advised  Mol- 
lie,  with  a  weak  attempt  at  raillery  as  they  ran 
down  the  porch  steps  and  piled  into  the  car.  "You 
won't  be  able  to  come  out  of  it  alive  if  you're  not 
properly  fortified,  Grade." 

"Oh,  that  reminds  me,"  cried  Betty,  springing 
from  her  seat  and  from  the  car  at  the  risk  of  her 
neck,  for  the  machine  had  already  begun  to  move. 
"We  forgot  the  chocolate  and  tobacco  for  the 
boys.  Wait  for  me,  Mollie." 

But  Mollie,  who  had  already  brought  the  car 
to  a  standstill  with  a  jerk  and  a  grinding  of 
brakes,  leapt  out  after  her,  and  the  two  flew  up 
the  steps,  taking  two  at  a  time,  and  into  the 
house. 

Left  behind,  Amy  and  Grace  looked  at  each 
other. 

"I  wish  I  could  move  like  that,"  sighed  the 
latter.  "Those  two  get  things  done  while  I'm 
just  beginning  to  think  about  it." 

"And  here  they  come  back  again,"  marveled 
Amy. 

"Yes  we  have,  and  it's  just  about  time,  too," 


132    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

panted  Betty,  as  they  scrambled  into  the '  ma- 
chine. "The  boys  are  coming  from  the  main  gate 
now,  and  we'll  have  to  make  things  hum  if  we 
want  to  get  there  before  them." 

"As  Frank  would  remark,"  agreed  Mollie: 
"  'You  said  it !'  This  is  going  to  be  the  race  of  a 
lifetime." 

"But  Mollie,"  said  Amy,  gripping  both  hands 
tight  in  her  lap  as  the  car  swerved  sharply  and 
executed  a  magnificent  skid  on  two  wheels,  "you 
know  it  won't  do  either  the  boys  or  us  any  good 
if  we  get  killed  on  the  way.  Do  be — — " 

"Amy  Blackford,"  cried  Mollie  in  an  ominous 
tone  of  voice,  "if  you  say  that  word  to  me  again 
I  will  run  into  a  tree  or  something  just  for  spite!" 

Amy  gave  a  plaintive  little  moan,  and  her  two 
hands  gripped  tighter  in  her  lap. 

"All  right,"  she  said.  "I'm  glad  I  made  my 
will  a  couple  of  days  ago." 

Grace  turned  an  interested  and  speculative  eye 
upon  her. 

"Oh,  you  did,"  she  remarked,  adding  in  a 
wheedling  tone,  "What  did  you  leave  me,  dear? 
You  know  I  always  was  your  best  friend." 

"Goodness,  I  wonder  who's  my  worst  then," 
retorted  Amy,  with  an  unexpected  flash  of 
humor. 

"Oof,  that  was  a  bad  one,   Grade,"   Betty 


SPARRING  FOR  TIME  133 

laughed,  glad  of  any  diversion  to  keep  the  vision 
of  those  splendid,  marching  boys  in  the  back- 
ground as  long  as  possible. 

Unconsciously  the  girls  were  sparring  for  time. 
They  knew  that  once  they  let  themselves  think, 
that  once  they  let  themselves  realize  the  full  sig- 
nificance, the  utter  finality  of  this  thing  that  was 
about  to  happen,  it  would  be  hard  for  them  to 
smile.  And  they  so  wanted  to  smile ! 

They  had  been  so  glad,  so  proud  when  the  boys 
had  volunteered  among  the  very  first.  Down  in 
their  hearts  they  had  known  that  that  was  the 
only  thing  they  could  have  done. 

And  the  thought  of  their  going  away  had 
seemed  so  far  in  the  future  that,  as  yet,  it  need 
not  worry  them.  Blinded  by  their  own  passion- 
ate patriotism,  they  had  seen  all  of  the  glory  of 
war  and  none  of  its  horror. 

And  now,  in  order  to  send  the  boys  away  with 
the  thought  of  bright  faces  and  encouraging 
smiles  to  cheer  them  on  their  long,  grim  journey, 
the  girls  joked  and  laughed,  carefully  avoiding 
the  subject  that  was  uppermost  in  their  minds. 

"Oh,  well,  that's  all  a  person  can  expect  in  this 
world,"  Grace  had  answered  resignedly,  in  reply 
to  Amy's  thrust.  "Just  be  kind  and  loving  and 
thoughtful  of  other  people's  comfort,  and  you're 
sure  to  be  sat  upon " 


134    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Goodness,  she  doesn't  think  anything  of  her- 
self, does  she?"  Mollie  flung  back  over  her  shoul- 
der. "Now  see  what  you  made  me  do!"  the  ex- 
clamation was  fairly  jerked  from  her  as  the  car 
lurched  into  a  deep  rut  at  the  side  of  the  road, 
skidded  for  a  minute,  seemingly  uncertain 
whether  to  fling  them  out  on  the  bank  or  continue 
its  way,  then  bumped  up  on  the  road  again  and 
continued  its  flight. 

"Oh,  Mollie,  do  be "  Amy  began,  but  a 

sudden  grim  straightening  of  Mollie's  back 
warned  her  in  time  and  with  a  gasp  she  choked 
back  the  forbidden  word. 

"Goodness,  isn't  she  well  trained?"  laughed 
Betty,  as  Mollie  bent  once  more  over  the  wheel. 

"Who  wouldn't  be,"  protested  Amy  plaintively, 
"if  a  cannibal  should  come  and  hang  an  axe  over 
his  head ?" 

"Is  she  calling  me  names?"  demanded  Mollie 
ferociously,  half  turning  in  her  seat.  "If  she  is, 
please  tell  her  to  say  it  to  my  face." 

"Well,  I  would  if  I  could,"  cried  poor  Amy 
desperately.  "But  I'd  have  to  be  an  acrobat— or 
an  idiot " 

"The  last  ought  to  be  easy,"  drawled  Grace, 
then  hastily  offered  her  candy.  "I  didn't  mean 
it,  Amy  dear,"  she  retracted  humbly.  "Really  I 
didn't" 


SPARRING  FOR  TIME  135 

"Don't  you  believe  her,"  said  Betty  whimsi- 
cally. "She  only  wants  to  find  out  what  you  left 
in  your  will,  Amy." 

"I  wouldn't  dare  tell  her  now,  anyway,"  re- 
turned Amy,  with  a  twinkle.  "Methinks  it  might 
very  easily  become  my  death  warrant." 

"How  so?"  queried  Mollie  with  interest — or 
perhaps  it  might  be  said,  Mollie's  back  expressed 
interest.  For  Mollie's  back  could  express,  Grace 
had  once  said,  "more  emotions  in  a  minute  than 
most  people's  faces  could  in  a  year."  And,  rid- 
ing as  they  so  often  did,  in  full  view  of  that  ex- 
pressive back,  the  girls  had  come  to  interpret  its 
owner's  emotions  correctly  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten.  So  now  they  were  able  to  detect  a  very 
quickened  interest. 

"Why,"  Amy  explained  naively,  "it's  barely 
possible  that  I've  left  something  to  Mollie,  too, 
isn't  it?" 

"Barely,"  agreed  Mollie  dryly. 

"Well,"  Amy  chuckled,  "then  what  would  be 
easier  than  for  Mollie  to  precipitate  an  accident, 
dash  my  brains  out  against  some  convenient  tree, 
and  then  brazenly  protest  all  innocence  in  the 
murder." 

"Nothing,"  said  Mollie,  with  the  same  dryness 
of  intonation,  "except  the  bare  possibility  of 
dashing  my  own  brains  out  in  the  transaction." 


136    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Oh,  well,  it  could  be  fixed,"  said  Amy  with 
confidence. 

"Do  you  really  think  so  ?"  Mollie's  back  once 
more  betrayed  a  lively  interest,  and  the  girls 
chuckled.  "Suppose  you  tell  me  about  it." 

"And  sign  my  own  death  warrant?"  returned 
Amy  plaintively.  "Goodness,  you  must  think  I'm 
foolisher  than  I  am." 

"Impossible,"  retorted  Mollie  and  once  more 
Amy  sighed  and  folded  her  hands  resignedly  in 
her  lap. 

"All  right,"  she  threatened,  "if  we  only  live 
through  this,  I'll  change  my  will,  that's  all,  and 
leave  everything  to  Betty  and  Mrs.  Sanderson." 

"Goodness,  what  have  I  done?"  cried  Grace  in 
dismay.  "Didn't  I  just  offer  you  another  candy 
and — and — everything " 

"I  didn't  notice  the  everything,"  said  Amy. 

"Well,  you  noticed  the  candy,"  retorted  Grace 
with  spirit,  "and  it  was  the  fattest,  juiciest  one  in 
the  box,  too." 

"Well,  give  it  back,  Amy,"  directed  Mollie,  and 
Amy,  in  the  act  of  swallowing  the  fat  juicy  choco- 
late, choked  on  a  chuckle. 

"Too  late,"  she  cried.    "It  is  decapitated." 

"I  thought  I  heard  its  death  rattle,"  sighed 
Grace,  mournfully  adding,  as  the  girls  laughed  at 
her:  "Oh,  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with 


SPARRING  FOR  TIME  137 

me  this  morning.    I  never  felt  so  foolish  before. 

"Girls,"  she  said,  and  suddenly  her  voice  quiv- 
ered and  her  eyes  filled,  "I've  tried  so  not  to 
think  of  it,  but  I  can't  fight  it  off  much  longer. 
Will  and  I  have  always  been  such  chums,  played 
and  worked  and  even — quarreled — together " 

"Please  don't,  Grade,"  cried  Betty,  her  face 
flushing  and  her  eyes  growing  dark  and  wide. 
"It  would  be  so  easy  just  to  g-give  way,  but  we're 
in  the  service,  too,  you  know,  and  we  must  be  at 
least  as  b-brave  as  the  boys." 

"I — I  guess  maybe  that's  impossible,"  said 
Mollie,  her  voice,  even  her  straight  little  back 
betraying  emotion.  "Nobody  could  be  as  b-brave 
as  they  are." 

"Well,  we  never  know  what  we  can  do  till  we 
try,  do  we?"  cried  Betty,  that  indomitable  fight- 
ing spirit  of  hers  rising  to  the  emergency.  "If 
we  say  we  can't,  of  course  we  can't,  but  we  can 
do  our  best,  can't  we?  If  the  boys  aren't  c-cry- 
ing,  why  should  we?" 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,"  cried  Mollie,  straight- 
ening defiantly  at  the  challenge.  "We  don't  have 
to,  and,  what's  more,  we  won't  1" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TEARS   AND    PATRIOTISM 

IT  was  a  valiant  determination,  that  one  to 
smile  whatever  happened;  but  somehow,  'way 
down  in  their  brave  hearts,  the  girls  doubted  a 
little.  They  would  do  their  best,  but,  after  all, 
they  were  only  human  and  there  are  times  when 
to  smile  is  the  hardest  achievement  in  the  world. 

"We're — we're  nearly  there,"  ventured  Amy, 
after  a  little  interval  of  silence,  during  which  the 
girls  had  been  busily  gathering  all  their  resources 
for  the  crisis  just  before  them.  "Do  you  sup- 
pose we've  got  in  ahead  of  the  boys?" 

"Goodness,  I  should  hope  so,"  retorted  Mollie, 
with  a  brief  return  of  her  old  spirit.  "If  this  old 
car  couldn't  make  better  time  than  boys  on  foot, 
I'd  give  it  away  to  any  one  who'd  take  it  off  my 
hands." 

As  she  spoke  the  car  swung  around  a  sharp 
curve,  and  the  station  that  had  appeared  so  at- 
tractive to  them  several  months  ago,  loomed  into 
view.  To-day  they  greeted  its  appearance  with 
138 


TEARS  AND  PATRIOTISM  139 

as  much  enthusiasm  as  they  would  the  electric 
chair. 

A  train  was  coming  in,  but  it  was  not  one  for 
the  troops.  It  was  a  mixed  train,  composed  of 
one  passenger  car,  a  baggage  and  smoker  com- 
bined, and  several  milk  cars. 

"What  a  country-looking  train,"  was  Amy's 
comment. 

She  addressed  Betty,  but  the  Little  Captain  did 
not  answer,  for  the  reason  that  she  was  staring 
into  the  baggage  car,  the  side  door  to  which  was 
wide  open. 

"See  that  man!" 

She  pointed  to  an  individual  who  stood  in  the 
baggage  car,  his  hands  holding  up  a  motorcycle. 

"Oh,  Betty,  is  it  that  man — our  motor- 
cyclist  ?"  began  Mollie. 

"I  am  sure  it  is !"  cried  Grace. 

The  man  was  looking  toward  the  end  of  the 
baggage  car,  so  they  got  only  a  side  look  at  his 
face.  Then  the  train  moved  away  and  was  soon 
out  of  sight. 

"Well,  if  that's  the  fellow,  he  is  gone,"  mur- 
mured Amy. 

"Now,  maybe,  we'll  never  have  a  chance  to 
catch  him,"  added  Mollie. 

"Oh,  we'll  catch  him  yet,"  declared  Betty. 

Under   ordinary   circumstances   the   Outdoor 


140    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Girls  would  have  given  the  incident  considerable 
attention.  But  now  their  thoughts  were  of  the 
soldier  boys  so  soon  to  leave. 

"Didn't  the  boys  say  they  were  entraining  for 
Philadelphia?"  asked  Grace,  trying  hard  to  make 
her  voice  sound  natural  and  merely  conversa- 
tional. 

"Yes,  that's  where  a  great  many  of  them  go," 
Betty  answered,  praying  desperately  that  she 
might  fight  down  that  flood  of  tears  that  every 
moment  threatened  to  rise  and  overwhelm  her. 
"I  won't  be  weak  and  f-foolish,"  she  was  saying, 
over  and  over,  to  herself.  "I  won't,  I  won't,  I 
won't!" 

Then  the  car  came  to  a  standstill  beside  the 
platform  and  the  girls  sat  looking  at  each  other, 
not  quite  sure  what  to  do  next. 

"Do  you  think  it  would  be  all  right  to  stay 
here  ?"  asked  Mollie  uncertainly.  "Of  course  we 
could  get  out  when  the  boys  came." 

"It's  a  little  conspicuous,  don't  you  think?" 
suggested  Amy  mildly. 

"Yes,  it  looks  as  if  we  had  come  to  see  a  parade 
or  something,"  Grace  agreed. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  luggage  and  many 
boxes  piled  at  one  end  of  the  station  and  it  was 
upon  these  that  Betty's  eyes,  roaming  in  search 
of  some  sheltered  spot,  finally  focused. 


TEARS  AND  PATRIOTISM  141 

"We  could  slip  in  behind  those  packing  cases 
and  things,"  she  suggested;  "and  then  we  could 
see  without  being  too  much  seen  ourselves." 

"Then  the  boys  might  not  see  us,"  protested 
Mollie,  clenching  her  teeth  over  her  trembling  lip. 
"We  don't  want  them  to  think  we  weren't  here 
to  say  g-good-bye." 

"Well,  they'll  see  the  car,  won't  they?"  Betty 
argued,  a  little  impatiently,  for  even  her  sweet 
temper  was  beginning  to  give  way  under  the 
strain.  "They'll  know  by  that  that  we're  here 
and  then  if  they  miss  us,  they  deserve  to — that's 
all." 

"Well,  I  suppose  we'll  have  to  take  a  chance," 
said  Molly,  almost  crossly,  as  she  jumped  out 
after  Betty.  "I  only  wish  it  was  all  over.  The 
waiting  is  getting  on  my  nerves." 

"Well,  you  don't  think  you're  alone  in  that,  do 
you?"  Grace  was  beginning  when  Betty  inter- 
rupted with  a  little  hysterical  laugh. 

"I — I  don't  see  how  it's  going  to  make  us  feel 
very  much  better  to  quarrel  about  it,"  she  said,1 
adding  whimsically :  "Come  ahead  you  two — kiss 
and  make  up  before  the  boys  come.  You  know 
they  always  said  it  made  them  jealous  enough  to 
commit  murder  when  we  did  it  in  their  pres- 
ence." 

They  laughed  unsteadily,  and  Mollie  threw  an 


142    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

affectionate  and  repentant  arm  about  the  Little 
Captain's  shoulders. 

"Betty,  dear,  you  make  me  ashamed  of  my- 
self," she  said  impulsively.  "As  if  you  didn't 
have  enough  to  worry  about  yourself  without  my 
making  you  more.  I'm  a  selfish  pig,  that's  all." 

Just  then  the  sound  that  they  had  all  been  un- 
consciously listening  for  struck  heavily  upon  their 
ears.  The  regular  tramp,  tramp  of  hundreds, 
thousands,  of  marching  feet! 

"Oh,  they're  coming,  they're  coming!"  cried 
Amy,  in  a  sort  of  suffocated  little  moan. 

"Well,  of  course  they're  coming,"  retorted  Mol- 
lie,  her  nerves  jumping  with  the  effort  to  speak 
coolly.  "We've  been  almost  expecting  that  they 
would,  haven't  we  ?" 

"Oh,  I  know.  But  it  all  seemed  like  a  terrible 
d-dream  till  now,"  returned  Amy,  looking  so  like 
a  bewildered  child  that  Betty  put  a  comforting 
arm  about  her  and  drew  her  into  the  little  recess 
beside  her. 

"It  isn't  a  dream,  Amy  dear,"  she  said,  very 
steadily.  "I  don't  think  we  were  ever  more  fully 
or  terribly  awake  than  we  are  now.  Not  even 
that  day  when  we  heard  of  the  sinking  of  the 
Lusitania,  did  we  realize  just  what  this  war  was 
going  to  mean  to  us.  It's  only  by  some  sacrifice 
— some  personal  sacrifice "  but  the  brave 


TEARS   AND   PATRIOTISM  143 

voice  broke  and  died  into  silence  while  she  lis- 
tened with  almost  straining  intensity  to  that  reg- 
ular beat  of  marching  feet,  coming  nearer,  ever 
nearer 

And  in  the  distance  came  the  long,  warning 
whistle  of  the  train — the  train  that  was  going  to 
take  them  away! 

"Oh,  keep  still,"  cried  Mollie,  turning  with 
sudden,  unreasoning  fury  toward  the  oncoming 
locomotive  with  the  smudge  of  smoke  in  its  wake, 
her  hands  clenched  passionately  and  her  black 
eyes  smoldering.  "We  know  you're  coming  for 
them — Roy  and  Allen  and  Will  and  Frank  and — 
and — all  the  others.  But  that's  no  reason  why 
you  have  to  rub  it  in,  is  it  ?" 

At  any  other  time,  the  rather  unreasoning  at- 
tack upon  the  train  would  have  seemed  funny  to 
the  girls,  and  even  in  their  trouble  a  faint  gleam 
of  humor  came  to  them,  but  no  one  laughed,  no 
one  even  smiled. 

"I — I  wonder,"  said  Grace,  nervously  patting 
a  stray  lock  of  hair  into  place  beneath  the  smart 
little  hat  which,  under  the  spell  of  excitement, 
had  gotten  slightly  awry,  "if  we'll  be  able  to  pick 
our  boys  out  from  all  that  crowd.  Oh,  girls," 
taking  a  quick  little  survey  over  the  top  of  her 
own  particular  packing  case,  "they're  almost  here! 
Swarms,  just  swarms  of  them  I" 


144    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Goodness,  that  sounds  like  locusts — or  mos- 
quitoes," cried  Betty  hysterically,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  was  saying.  "Squeeze  in  tight, 
Amy,  or  you'll  get  your  toes  stepped  on.  Grace, 
look  again.  How  far  away  are  they  ?" 

"Just  around  the  corner,"  reported  Grace. 
"Goodness,"  she  cried  in  sudden  panic,  "I  almost 
wish  we'd  stayed  in  the  automobile.  I'd  feel 
s-safer " 

"Safer?"  cried  Mollie  scornfully.  "I'd  like  to 
know  what  there  is  to  be  afraid  of.  Oh,  there  you 
go  again,"  shaking  an  impotent  little  fist  as  the 
great  train  rumbled  into  the  station  with  a  scream- 
ing of  brakes  and  a  shrieking  of  whistles. 

And  then  the  flood  broke.  Down  the  station 
platform  came  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  khaki- 
clad  figures,  talking,  gesticulating,  faces  eagerly 
flushed,  eyes  brilliant  as  they  prophetically  looked 
into  the  future. 

"Oh,  we'll  never  be  able  to  pick  them  out  of 
the  crowd,"  cried  Grace  despairingly.  "I'm  get- 
ting cross-eyed  as  it  is.  Oh,  there's  Corporal 
Harris!  Yes,  and  there  goes  James  McDonald! 
Oh,  oh " 

And  indeed  there  were  scores  of  familiar  faces 
among  the  boys  that  were  passing  perhaps  for- 
ever out  of  their  lives.  Some  saw  the  girls  and 
saluted  them  gaily,  but  most  of  them  were  too  in- 


I 


"  IT  MAY  BE  A  LONG  TIME,  BUT-I'M  COMING  BACK." 
fhe  Outdoor  Girls  at  th*  Hottest  House,  ?<*£*  14S 


TEARS  AND  PATRIOTISM  145 

tent  upon  boarding  the  train  and  embarking  upon 
the  glorious  adventure  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible to  look  either  to  the  right  or  the  left. 

Then,  just  as  the  girls  thought  they  must  have 
missed  "their  own  particular  four"  and  were  brac- 
ing themselves  to  stand  the  disappointment,  they 
saw  them ! 

They  were  together,  the  four  of  them,  splendid 
specimens  of  young  manhood  with  their  cropped 
heads  and  service  hats  and  packs  slung  over  their 
backs. 

"Allen,"  cried  Betty  impulsively,  and  he  turned 
as  though  shot,  a  deep  flush  staining  his  face. 

They  came  over  then,  those  four,  to  the  girls 
they  were  leaving  indefinitely — perhaps  forever. 
Their  young  faces  were  very  grave,  their  jaws 
grim  and  set,  and  the  girls  realized  suddenly  that 
these  were  not  the  boys  who  had  so  joyously  left 
Deepdale  in  the  service  of  their  country.  These 
were  no  longer  careless,  irresponsible  boys,  but 
men  with  a  great  and  glorious  duty  to  perform, 
and  their  hearts  thrilled  with  a  new  pride. 

And  while  eloquent  things  were  being  said,  not 
only  with  lips,  but  with  eyes  and  clasping  hands, 
Allen  bent  nearer  to  Betty's  little,  upturned  face. 

"It  may  be  a  long,  long  time,  little  girl,"  he 
whispered,  gravely,  "but — I'm  coming  back. 
And,  Betty,  I  have  your  picture — that  little  snap- 


146    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

shot  you  gave  me,  the  laughing  one,  you  remem- 
ber?" 

Betty  nodded,  smiling  bravely  while  she  choked 
back  something  deep  down  in  her  throat. 

"And "  his  eyes  had  grown  very  wistful, 

"and — I'm  counting  on  some  letters  from  you, 
Betty?" 

"Oh,  Allen,"  she  cried  breathlessly,  "I'll  write 
you  all  the  time,  dear,  every  day " 

But  he  had  caught  both  her  hands  in  his  and 
was  drawing  her  irresistibly  toward  him. 

"  'Dear,' "  he  was  repeating  dizzily,  incredu- 
lously. "Did  you  call  me  that,  Betty?  Did  you 
say 'dear'?" 

"Y-yes,"  she  nodded,  breathless,  a  little  fright- 
ened, yet  adorably  brave.  Why,  this  was  Allen, 
and  he  was  going  away !  He  might  be  killed  over 
there !  She  might  never  see  him  again !  "And," 
she  added,  looking  up  into  his  eyes  with  a  shy 
recklessness,  "I — I'd  say  it  again,  Allen,  if  you 
asked  me " 

With  a  little  cry  he  drew  her  to  him,  and  for 
one  unbelievable,  breathless  second  his  lips  rested 
on  hers. 

"Betty,  Betty,  I  love  you,"  he  whispered  un- 
steadily. "I'll  be  dreaming  of  you  always. 
Whatever  I  do  'over  there'  will  be  because  of 
you "  The  whistle  shrieked  a  rude  warning 


TEARS  AND  PATRIOTISM  147 

and  his  hands  tightened  on  hers.  They  were  both 
trembling  a  little. 

"Good-bye,"  he  whispered  hoarsely.  "I — love 

— you "  then  he  tore  himself  away,  swinging 

up  the  steps  and  into  the  car. 

The  train  began  to  move  amid  a  great  storm  of 
cheering  and  waving  of  service  hats.  Betty  saw 
it  all  dimly,  through  a  mist  of  tears.  She  pressed 
her  hand  against  her  lips  to  still  their  trembling. 

"Good-bye,  dear,"  she  murmured  brokenly. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AFTER   THE   BOYS   LEFT 

"WELL — it's — over,"  sighed  Grace,  as  they 
made  their  way  slowly  down  the  platform  to 
where  the  machine  stood  waiting.  "I  feel  as 
though  I'd  like  to  go  home  and  cry  for  a  week 
without  stopping." 

"Favorite  indoor  sport,"  retorted  Mollie,  wip- 
ing her  own  eyes  impatiently.  "I'm  sure  the  boys 
would  admire  us  for  doing  that." 

"I  don't  think  they'd  admire  us  very  much  if 
they  could  see  us  now,"  sighed  Amy,  dabbing  a 
rather  red  nose  with  a  generous  portion  of  tal- 
cum powder.  "Crying  is  so  terribly  damaging  to 
my  particular  style  of  beauty !  Every  time  I  do  it 
I  vow  I  never  will  again " 

"And  then  the  boys  do  foolish  things  like  go- 
ing away  to  be  shot,"  finished  Mollie,  "and — 
poof,  go  all  our  good  resolutions." 

"But  you  girls  are  all  Helen  of  Troys  com- 
pared to  me  when  I  cry,"  said  Grace,  her  tear- 
dimmed  eyes  fixed  mournfully  on  space.  "Why, 

148 


AFTER    THE   BOYS   LEFT  149 

after  I've  had  a  good  cry  I  cover  up  all  the  mir- 
rors in  the  house  for  a  couple  of  days  after- 
ward." 

"I  guess,"  sighed  Betty,  "that  just  about  every- 
body we  know  went  away  on  that  train  this  morn- 
ing. Oh,  girls,  I  feel  as  though  somebody  were 
dead." 

"Well,  I'd  rather  be,  than  look  like  this,"  said 
Grace,  eyeing  her  somewhat  disheveled  reflection 
in  the  tiny  mirror  somberly. 

"Oh,  you're  not  quite  as  bad  as  that,  Grade," 
Betty  comforted  her,  laughing  a  little  despite  the 
ache  at  her  heart.  "A  little  cold  water  and  a 
curling  iron  will  work  wonders " 

"Betty,"  cried  Grace,  pausing  in  the  act  of  ap- 
plying still  more  powder  to  the  tip  of  her  nose 
and  regarding  the  Little  Captain  with  a  horrified 
expression,  "why  drag  the  mention  of  such  un- 
romantic  things  into  the  open " 

"Goodness,  nothing  could  be  much  more  unro- 
mantic  than  straight  hair  and  red  noses,"  broke 
in  Mollie  practically.  "It's  lucky  the  boys  don't 
do  this  every  day — I'd  be  a  wreck  in  a  week !" 

"Well,  at  least  you'd  be  wrecked  in  a  good 
cause,"  said  Betty,  half  wistfully,  half  whimsi- 
cally. 

"Goodness,  you'll  make  me  cry  again  after  I've 
just  powdered  my  nose,"  cried  Grace  in  alarm, 


150    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

and  the  foolishness  of  it  made  them  all  laugh. 

"You're  a  goose,  Grade,"  Mollie  commented. 
"But  I  love  you,  just  the  same.  Now,"  she  added, 
"who's  going  to  take  the  wheel  while  I  do  my 
duty  with  the  powder  puff?  I  need  both  hands 
you  know " 

"Heavens,  don't  let  Amy  do  it,"  cried  Grace, 
in  still  greater  alarm.  "She  doesn't  know  a  thing 
about  it.  Mollie,  what  are  you  doing?" 

"You  put  the  powder  on  then,"  Mollie  sug- 
gested, and  Amy  reached  for  the  vanity  case.  "If 
you  can't  drive  you  can  at  least  do  that  much. 
Amy !  you're  getting  it  in  my  eyes.  Do  be  care- 
ful!" 

"Mollie  Billette,  if  you  dare  use  that  word 
again,"  cried  Amy,  her  eyes  twinkling,  "I'll  blind 
you  with  powder — just  for  spite !" 

The  girls  chuckled,  and  Mollie,  figuratively 
speaking,  threw  up  her  hands. 

"Oh,  all  right,"  she  said,  meekly  yielding  up 
her  nose  to  treatment.  "I  surrender.  Only,  Amy, 
do  be " 

Amy  raised  the  puff  threateningly,  and  the 
badgered  one  continued  hastily:  "I  was  only  go- 
ing to  say — do  be  a  nice  little  girl." 

"As  if  I  were  not  always  that !"  retorted  Amy, 
dabbing  so  liberally  at  the  unfortunate  member 
that  Mollie  sneezed,  bumped  over  a  rock  in  the 


AFTER    THE   BOYS  LEFT  15* 

road  and  nearly  dashed  the  car  against  that  long- 
threatening  tree. 

"Oh,  goodness!  I  was  sure  we'd  never  come 
out  of  this  alive,"  cried  Grace  miserably.  "Isn't 
it  enough  to  have  our  hearts  broken,  without  our 
necks  in  the  bargain?" 

"Oh,  might  as  well  make  a  good  job  of  it,"  re- 
turned Mollie  cheerfully.  "I  don't  know  that  I'd 
mind  very  much,  anyway." 

"Oh,  now  I  know  I'm  going  to  cry!"  wailed 
Grace,  wiping  a  starting  tear  with  her  handker- 
chief. "Just  when  we're  almost  at  Camp,  too,  and 
apt  to  meet  somebody  any  minute " 

"Didn't  you  just  hear  Betty  say,"  Mollie  broke 
in,  with  the  patient  air  one  assumes  in  speaking  to 
little  children,  "that  everybody  who  is  really  worth 
anything  has  gone  away  on  that  train?" 

"Well,  I  guess  I  didn't  altogether  mean  that," 
said  Betty  thoughtfully.  "Of  course  there  is  the 
medical  personnel  that  is  stationed  here  indefi- 
nitely and  very  much  against  its  will.  And,  of 
course,"  she  added,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"there  is  Sergeant  Mullins." 

"Goodness !  we  did  forget  all  about  him,  didn't 
we?"  agreed  Mollie,  as  though  surprised  at  her- 
self. "I  don't  know  how  we  could  have  done 
such  a  thing!" 

"And  he's  simply  desperate  at  being  kept  here," 


152    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

added  Amy  suddenly.  "He's  done  everything  he 
possibly  could  to  get  away,  but  they  say  they  need 
him  more  here  than  on  the  other  side,  and  so,  of 
course,  he  can't  do  a  thing." 

"How  did  you  know?"  they  asked  in  chorus, 
growing  gleeful  as  she  colored  under  their  gaze. 

"Why,  he — he  told  me,"  she  stammered.^ 

"Aha !  I  have  you  now,  woman,"  cried  Mollie, 
with  a  deep  villain  frown.  "Secret  meetings  on 
moonlit  nights " 

"This  one  happened  to  be  in  the  broad  day- 
light, in  the  glare  of  noon,"  Amy  retorted.  "And 
if  you  can  find  anything  secret  or  romantic  about 
that,  you're  welcome  to." 

Mollie  stared  for  a  minute,  then  joined  in  the 
laugh. 

"Strike  one,"  she  cried.  "But  do  tell  us,  Amy 
dear,  about  this  meeting  with  Sergeant  Mullins 
that  occurred  in  the  broad  light  of  day.  It  must 
have  been  interesting — though  unforeseen,"  she 
added  hastily,  as  Amy  turned  a  suspicious  eye 
upon  her. 

"Yes,  Amy,  I  humbly  beseech  you,"  added 
Grace. 

"No,  sir,  I  have  been  insulted  enough,"  de- 
clared Amy  stoutly,  and  nothing  they  could  say 
seemed  to  have  any  effect  upon  her  decision. 

"You  ask  her,  Betty,"  entreated  Grace  at  last, 


AFTER    THE   BOYS   LEFT  153 

turning  to  the  Little  Captain,  who  had  been  very 
silent  and  thoughtful  during  the  ride.  "She'll 
do  anything  for  you,  you  know." 

Betty  brought  back  her  wandering  attention 
with  a  start.  She  had  been  thinking  of  those  last 
words  of  Allen's,  had  been  seeing  again  that  ex- 
alted look  in  his  eyes,  could  feel  again  the  trem- 
bling of  his  hands  as  he  grasped  hers  in  a  grip 
that  hurt — hurt  gloriously. 

"Wh-what  did  you  say?"  she  asked,  dimly  con- 
scious of  having  been  addressed.  "I — I'm  afraid 
I  wasn't  listening." 

"I'm  afraid  you  weren't,"  returned  Grace, 
throwing  a  loving  arm  about  her. 

Then  she  repeated  Amy's  confession  and  her 
own  question,  and  gradually  there  began  to  dawn 
in  Betty's  eyes  a  real  interest. 

"Oh,  Amy,  do  tell  us  about  it,"  she  begged 
earnestly.  "You  know  he  has  always  been  some- 
thing of  a  mystery  to  us  because  of  his  reserve, 
and  we'd  love  to  know  more  about  him.  You 
know  we're  really  not  curious — just  truly  inter- 
ested." 

"Well,"  agreed  Amy,  with  a  smile,  not  able  to 
resist  Betty — nobody  ever  was  for  long — "of 
course,  I'll  tell  you  all  there  is  to  tell — although 
it  really  isn't  much.  I  was  hurrying  along  the 
parade  a  day  or  two  ago,  watching  the  boys  drill, 


154    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

when  somebody  ran  plump  into  me  and  made  me 
drop  the  package  I  was  carrying.  I  gasped  and 
started  to  apologize  for  not  looking  where  I  was 
going  when  I  saw  that  it  was  Sergeant  Mullins. 
.Then  we  both  laughed  and  he  picked  up  my  pack- 
age and  offered  to  see  me  safely  back  to  the 
Hostess  House.  Now  what  are  you  laughing  at, 
Mollie?" 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  Mollie  chuckled,  "of  the 
desperate  need  there  was  of  a  brave  escort  and 
of  all  the  lions  and  tigers  that  were  apt  to  attack 
you  on  the  parade " 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to  be  silly,"  Amy  re- 
torted hotly,  flushing  despite  herself,  adding, 
rather  lamely:  "He  said  it  was  so  no  one  else 
would  run  into  me." 

"Worse  and  worse,  and  more  of  it,"  chortled 
Mollie,  skidding  deftly  about  a  curve.  "What 
an  excuse!" 

"Oh,  all  right  then,"  Amy  was  beginning  indig- 
nantly, when  Grace  hurriedly  thrust*  the  candy 
box  beneath  her  nose. 

"Have  one,  honey,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  of 
sugar  sweetness.  "You  needn't  pay  any  attention 
to  Mollie,  you  know.  We're  listening." 

"Well,"  Amy  continued,  slightly  mollified,  "it 
was  then  he  told  me  all  about  the  ambition  he  had 
had  of  being  one  of  the  first  on  the  firing  line  and 


AFTER    THE   BOYS  LEFT  155 

how  hard  it  was  to  train  all  the  boys  to  go  after 
the  Huns  and  then  not  have  a  chance  at  them 
himself." 

"And,  of  course,  you  told  him  the  same  old 
thing  about  his  doing  a  great  deal  more  for  his 
country  here  than  he  could  do  on  the  other 
side "  began  Mollie. 

"Well,  what  else  was  there  to  say?"  Amy  re- 
plied, a  little  sharply.  "Of  course,  it  didn't  make 
him  feel  any  better,  and  I  knew  in  my  heart  that 
it  wouldn't,  but  anything's  better  than  just  stay- 
ing quiet  and  acting  foolish." 

"And  natural,"  murmured  Grace. 

"Anyway,  he  seemed  to  understand  that  I  was 
really  sorry  for  him,"  Amy  continued,  not  notic- 
ing the  interruption.  "He  said  he  was  sorry  he'd 
bothered  me  with  his  grouchiness,  that  he 
wouldn't  have  felt  so  bad  about  it  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  all  the  boys  going  away,  and  he  sup- 
posed he'd  even  get  used  to  that  after  a  while  if 
he  tried  hard  enough. 

"Just  the  same,  he  did  look  mighty  grim  as  he 
turned  away,"  she  finished,  with  a  little  smile  at 
the  memory,  "and  he  said  something  about  not 
being  surprised  if  he  got  mad  at  the  last  minute 
and  hitched  on  the  rear  platform,  anyway." 

"It's  wonderful  how  eager  they  all  are,"  said 
Betty,  her  eyes  shining  and  a  little  catch  in  her 


156    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

voice.  "I  suppose  there  are  slackers,  lots  of  them, 
but  so«far  I  haven't  met  a  boy  who  wasn't  desper- 
ate at  being  given  a  'safe  berth'  away  from  the 
firing  line  and  danger. 

"It  never  seems  to  enter  their  minds  to  be 
thankful  that  they  don't  have  to  run  the  risk  of 
having  their  arms  and  legs  shot  off,  or  perhaps 
being  blinded  for  life. 

"And  it  isn't  that  they  don't  think  of  it,  either," 
she  went  on,  her  face  flushing  with  enthusiasm, 
"or  realize  what  it  means.  Just  the  other  night 
Will  was  talking  to  me,  Gracie — you  know  he's 
always  been  almost  as  much  my  brother  as  yours 
— and  he  said,  'I  tell  you  what,  Betty,  it  isn't 
often  I  let  the  grim  side  of  this  war  business  get 
to  me,  and  it's  the  same  with  the  other  fellows. 
Of  course  we  know  it's  there,  but  we're  willing  to 
take  the  bad  with  the  good  for  the  sake  of  doing 
what  we're  pretty  darn  sure  is  the  only  thing  to 
do.  Only,'  he  added,  slowly,  'we're  none  of  us 
pretending  to  say  that  we  enjoy  the  idea  of  being 
maimed  or  perhaps  crippled  for  life.  There's  not 
one  of  us  but  who's  praying  that  if  we  have  to  go, 
it  will  be  a  good  swift  bullet  that  will  do  the 
business. 

"  'But,'  he  added,  with  a  smile — and  I  could 
have  hugged  him  for  that  smile,  girls.  'But,  of 
course,  as  I  said  before,  we're  not  thinking  of 


AFTER    THE   BOYS   LEFT  157 

that  side  of  it.  It's  enough  to  know  that  if  it 
comes,  we'll  know  how  to  meet  it.' ' 

"And  th-that's  my  brother,"  cried  Grace,  half 
tearful,  yet  radiant  with  pride  in  him.  "Those 
horrible  old  Huns  won't  have  even  half  a  chance 
when  he  gets  at  them." 

"And  Frank  and  Allen  and  Roy,"  added  Mollie 
loyally.  "You  can't  leave  any  one  of  our  boys 
out,  Grade.  They're  all  built  on  the  same  plan — 
as  far  as  bravery  is  concerned." 

"Of  course,  I  know  that,"  said  Grace,  her  eyes 
softening  with  the  picture  of  Roy  as  he  had  said 
good-bye — so  youthfully  gay,  yet  so  strangely 
self-reliant. 

And  Mollie's  eyes  that  could  flash  so  wrath- 
fully  at  times,  were  also  soft  with  memory,  and 
Amy,  thinking  of  those  last  words  that  were  al- 
most, yes,  so  very  near,  a  promise,  flushed  hotly 
and  wondered  if  after  all  she  ought — so 
soon " 

"It's  no  wonder  that  we're  proud  of  them — our 
boys,"  said  Betty  softly. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

REAL  TRAGEDY 

A  DAY  or  two  went  by  during  which  the  girls 
tried  pluckily  to  go  on  with  their  duties  about  the 
Hostess  House  with  bright  and  smiling  faces.  It 
was  hard,  though,  to  keep  their  thoughts  from 
wandering  to  the  four  boys  who  were  now  on 
their  way  to  face  all  the  realities  and  all  the 
horrors  of  the  terrible  war,  and  perhaps  it  was 
well  that  the  leaving  of  so  many  made  their  duties 
lighter  than  usual. 

On  their  return  from  the  station  after  seeing 
the  boys  entrain  they  had  found  a  letter  from 
their  friend,  Mrs.  Barton  Ross,  of  their  home 
town  of  Deepdale,  head  of  the  Young  Women's 
Christian  Association,  under  whose  auspices  the 
Hostess  House  at  Camp  Liberty  was  run.  In  this 
letter  Mrs.  Ross  had  said  that  she  had  sent  to  the 
girls  a  box  of  books  for  which  they  had  sent  a 
request — books  all  of  which  one  boy  or  another 
had  asked  for,  and  which  the  regular  Camp 
library  had  not  been  able  to  supply. 

158 


REAL   TRAGEDY  159 

The  books  had  now  come,  Mollie  had  learned 
on  a  visit  to  the  postoffice,  and  as  it  was  a'heavy 
package  she  had  got  out  the  car  and. with  the. 
other  girls  had  run  down  for  it. 

As  the  car  rolled  up  to  the  curb  and  stopped 
once  more  before  the  Hostess  House,  Betty  waved- 
her  hand  to  an  upper  window. 

"There's  Mrs.  Sanderson,"  she  explained  as 
they  got  out  of  the  automobile.  "She  looks  kind 
of  pathetic  sitting  up  there  all  alone." 

"She  always  looks  pathetic  to  me,"  sighed  Amy, 
winding  an  arm  about  the  Little  Captain  as  they 
ascended  the  steps.  "But  everybody  looks  sadder 
and  more  forlorn  than  usual  the  past  few  days." 

"Well,  we  can't  be  sad  and  forlorn  any  longer," 
said  Betty  determinedly.  "We  came  here  to 
cheer  people  up,  you  know,  and  how  we're  going 
to  do  it  by  being  doleful  ourselves,  I  don't  know. 
So,  in  the  words  of  the  vulgar — 'here  goes/ 
How's  that?" 

"That"  was  a  rather  forced  and  pitiful  little 
smile,  but  it  brought  an  answering'  one  from 
Amy  and  another  warm  hug. 

"You're  just  wonderful,  Betty!"  she  said  lov- 
ingly, "and  we'll  do  just  whatever  you  say.  If 
you  want  us  to  smile,  we'll  smile,  that's  all.  Of 
course,  we  have  tried,  but  we'll  try  still  harder." 

Betty  hugged  back,  and  they  went  up  the  stairs 


l6o    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

toward  the  old  familiar  room,  feeling  better  and 
more  cheerful  for  their  renewed  good  resolutions. 

For  a. while  the  girls  were  busy  unpacking  the 
books  and  putting  them  in  place.  Then  Betty 
announced  her  intention  of  calling  on  Mrs.  San- 
derson. 

"I  can't  bear  to  think  of  her  in  there  by  the 
window  all  alone,"  she  said.  "It  has  been  awfully 
hard  for  her  to  watch  all  those  boys  going  away, 
knowing  that  her  Willie  wasn't  among  them.  I 
might  be  able  to  comfort  her  a  little." 

"Let  me  go  too,"  begged  Amy,  and  arm  in  arm 
the  two  girls  went  on  their  little  mission  of  kind- 
ness. 

They  knocked  on  the  door,  but,  receiving  no 
answer,  pushed  it  open  and  stepped  inside  the 
room.  The  old  lady  was  sitting  in  exactly  the 
same  position  as  when  Betty  had  seen  her  from 
the  car,  almost  an  hour  before. 

She  glanced  up,  a  little  startled  when  they  spoke 
to  her,  and  half  rose  to  her  feet.  She  looked 
dazed  and  very  old  and  drawn.  With  a  little  cry 
of  compassion,  Betty  ran  over  to  her  and  gently 
forced  her  back  into  her  chair. 

"Did  we  startle  you?"  she  asked  anxiously. 
"We  knocked,  but  you  didn't  answer,  and  we, 
came  right  in.  I'm  sorry " 

"You  needn't  be,  dearie."    The  old  eyes  twin- 


REAL   TRAGEDY  161 

kled  and  the  old  hand  was  very  gentle  as  it  patted 
Betty's  cheek  reassuringly.  "I'm  always  glad  to 
see  you  and  I've  told  you  to  come  right  in  any 
time.  I  was  thinking  very  hard,  I  guess,  and 
that's  why  I  didn't  hear  you." 

"Then  we  may  stay  a  little  while  ?"  said  Betty, 
relieved.  "But  please  tell  us  if  we'll  be  a  bother," 
she  added  hastily,  as  the  old  woman  turned  once 
more  to  the  window. 

"No,  no,  I  was  hoping  you  would  come,"  said 
the  latter  so  eagerly  that  Betty  knew  her  impulse 
had  been  a  correct  one.  The  old  woman  had 
wanted  some  one — some  one  who  understood — to 
pour  out  her  heart  to. 

"It  was  wonderful  just  to  sit  here  and  watch 
those  boys  who  went,  an'  I've  been  thinkin'  of  it," 
she  said,  after  a  brief  silence.  "Only,  somethin' 
inside  o'  me,  I  guess  'twas  my  heart,  kept  bleedin' 
an*  cryin'  out  that  my  boy  should  have  been 
among  them — my  little  brown-eyed  Willie  who 
used  to  sit  out  in  the  sun  readin'  every  minute  he 
could  get.  I  can  see  him  now,  sittin'  there,  jest 

as  if  'twas  yesterday "    Her  voice  trailed  off, 

and  in  a  silence  eloquent  with  sympathy  the  girls 
waited  for  her  to  go  on. 

"But  I  wanted  to  tell  those  boys  too,"  she  cried, 
straightening  up  with  sudden  fire,  "that  my  Willie 
wasn't  only  a  reader  an'  as  bright  as  a  dollar, — 


162    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

he  could  fight,  too.    He'd  have  made  a  soldier  to 
be  proud  of. 

"It  wouldn't  be  near  so  bad,"  she  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  girls  with  such  a  depth  of  tragedy  in 
her  eyes  that  their  hearts  bled  for  her,  "if  I 
could  only  be  sure  o'  his  bein'  dead.  It's  the 
heartbreak  of  not  knowin'  that's  goin'  to  kill  me 
in  the  end ! 

"But  there,"  she  said,  catching  herself  up  as 
though  ashamed  of  the  outburst,  "seems  like  I 
talk  to  you  little  ladies  more'n  I  ever  talked  to 
anybody  else  in  all  my  life.  Seems  like  it's  jest 
been  bottled  up  inside  o'  me  so  long  it's  jest  got 
to  come  out. 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  me,"  she  added,  looking  at 
them  wistfully,  "when  it  bothers  you,  an'  I'll  jest 
bottle  it  all  up  again  twice  as  tight  as  'twas 
before." 

"Oh,  please,"  cried  Amy,  taking  one  of  the 
work-worn  hands  and  pressing  it  earnestly  be- 
tween her  own  warm  ones.  "We  just  feel  hon- 
ored to  think  that  you  trust  us  enough  and  like 
us  enough  to  tell  us  these  things.  If  you  didn't 
we'd  be  miserable!" 

"Indeed  we  should,"  added  Betty  fervently. 

Mrs.  Sanderson  looked  from  one  of  the  flushed 
earnest  faces  to  the  other,  and  her  eyes  filled 
slowly  with  tears. 


REAL   TRAGEDY  163 

"I  never  thought,"  she  said  tremulously,  "that 
there  were  girls  like  you  in  the  world." 

Several  days  later  Mrs.  Watson,  their  chap- 
erone,  and  the  head  of  the  Hostess  House,  called 
the  girls  to  her  for  a  consultation,  and,  wondering 
what  new  thing  was  in  store  for  them,  they  re- 
sponded to  the  call. 

The  boys  had  been  gone  for  a  week,  time 
enough  to  get  accustomed — a  little — to  the  feel- 
ing of  loss  that  had  so  oppressed  them  during 
the  first  few  days. 

And  now  there  were  rumors  of  new  soldiers 
arriving  at  the*  camp  and  of  more  than  enough 
work  for  the  girls  at  the  Hostess  House  to  keep 
their  minds  continually  occupied. 

And,  in  fact,  it  was  to  discuss  that  very  situa- 
tion that  Mrs.  Watson  had  called  them  to  her  this 
morning. 

"Well,  girls,"  she  said  when  they  had  seated 
themselves  in  characteristic  attitudes  about  the 
room,  "we've  had  a  little  breathing  spell  now,  just 
enough  time  to  rest  up  before  the  next  onslaught." 

She  paused  over  the  word,  smiled,  and  they 
smiled  back  at  her. 

"Of  course  that  means,"  Betty  interpreted, 
"that  not  only  the  boys  but  hundreds  of  their 
relatives  and  friends  are  coming  to  be  entertained 
and  housed  and  amused." 


1 64    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Exactly,"  nodded  Mrs.  Watson.  "And,  of 
course,  the  work  that  you  girls  have  done " 

"And  you,"  Betty  interjected  loyally,  but  Mrs. 
Watson  brushed  the  interruption  aside  with  a 
wave  of  her  hand,  though  she  flushed  happily. 

"Of  course  I've  done  my  part  of  it,"  she  agreed 
modestly.  "But  equally  of  course  I  couldn't  have 
done  it  if  you  girls  hadn't  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  me.  And,"  she  added,  enthusias- 
tically, "it  has  been  more  the  spirit  with  which 
you  did  the  work  than  the  actual  work  itself  that 
has  won  such  a  reputation  for  our  Hostess  House 
here." 

"  'Reputation !'  "  repeated  Mollie  wonderingly, 
then  added  with  an  impish  inflection :  "Oh,  have 
we  one  of  those  things?" 

"We  have,"  responded  Mrs.  Watson,  with  an 
indulgent  smile.  "And,  whether  deserved  or  not, 
modesty  would  prompt  us  to  say  that  it  is  not, 

of  course "  and  the  girls  laughed  amusedly. 

"Our  reputation  is  unusually  good  and  unusually 
widespread.  So  good,  in  fact,  that  the  boys  are 
glad  when  they  find  they  are  to  be  sent  to  Camp 
Liberty. 

"Yes,"  Betty  nodded  thoughtfully,  "several 
boys  have  told  me  that,  but  I  thought  they  only 
said  it  in  a  spirit  of  gratitude,  or  perhaps,  as 
flattery." 


REAL   TRAGEDY  165 

"That  is  modest,"  said  Mrs.  Watson  with  an- 
other smile.  "But,"  she  added,  leaning  forward 
in  her  chair  and  speaking  earnestly,  "I  honestly 
think  that  you  girls  don't  even  begin  to  realize 
what  a  wonderful  work  you  have  been  doing 
right  here  in  this  little  city  that  sprang  up  over 
night.  It  isn't  a  small  thing,  you  know — sending 
thousands  of  our  boys  away  cheered  and  strength- 
ened, armed  to  meet  the  future — better  men,  just 
for  having  met  you. 

"And  the  mothers  and  wives  and  sweethearts 
who  have  been  entertained  so  royally  and  per- 
mitted to  say  good-bye  to  their  loved  ones  under 
the  very  best  and  cheeriest  conditions  possible — 
why,  they  have  spoken  to  me  of  you  with  tears 
in  their  eyes !" 

There  were  tears  in  their  own  eyes  as  the  girls 
smiled  happily  at  her. 

"But  it's  been  such  fun,"  Mollie  protested, 
"just  seeing  how  much  you  can  make  people  for- 
get their  troubles." 

"That's  it,"  Mrs.  Watson  broke  in  quickly. 
"That's  the  spirit  that  has  made  your  work  here 
such  a  wonderful  success.  You've  done  it — and 
whether  you  will  admit  it  or  not,  sometimes  we've 
all  been  so  tired  at  night  we've  ached  in  every 
joint  and  muscle  when  we\e  crawled  into  bed — 
because  you  loved  to  do  it  and  because  it  was 


166    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

'fun'   to  make  people   forget  their  troubles,   if 
only  for  a  little  while,  and  be  happy. 

"That's  the  secret,  dear  girls,  and  that's  why 
the  boys  are  all  eager  to  be  assigned  here.  Also, 
the  boys  in  the  permanent  garrison  will  sing  your 
praises  to  the  few  who  have  not  already  heard 
them,  and  of  course  we  shall  have  to  live  up  to 
their  opinion  of  us." 

"Well,  if  just  doing  what  we  have  been  doing 
gives  us  such  a  reputation,"  said  Amy  soberly, 
"I  guess  it  won't  be  hard  to  live  up  to  it  in  the 
future." 

"Only,"  said  Mrs.  Watson  warningly,  "the 
work  before  us  is  apt  to  be  very  much  more  try- 
ing and  arduous  than  any  we  have  yet  had.  The 
camp  is  going  to  be  filled  to  overflowing,  and  of 
course  that  will  mean  entertaining  continually 
for  us. 

"We  may  even,"  she  added  thoughtfully,  "have 
to  quarter  some  of  the  relatives  and  friends  out- 
side the  camp  in  private  homes,  and,  of  course,  it 
will  be  up  to  us  to  find  those  homes." 

"You  mean  we  are  to  go  canvassing — the  way 
we  did  that  Thanksgiving?"  queried  Betty. 
Mrs.  Watson  nodded,  and  Grace  groaned. 
"Well,"  said  the  latter,  "I  don't  care.    In  fact, 
I  rather  like  the  idea  if  only  my  feet  will  hold 
out." 


REAL    TRAGEDY  \(fj 

"They  look  pretty  durable,"  remarked  Mollie 
gravely. 

"But  you  don't  know  how  they  feel,"  retorted 
Grace,  wiggling  one  foot  in  its  trim  slipper  experi- 
mentally. "Every  time  I  get  a  pair  of  shoes  I 
have  to  get  a  size  larger,  and  you  know,"  argu- 
mentatively,  "at  that  rate  I'll  be  a  freak  and  you'll 
be  able  to  charge  admission  for  a  look  at  me." 

"Good,"  cried  Mrs.  Watson,  laughing  with  the 
others.  "I  knew  some  one  would  be  clever  enough 
to  think  up  a  new  way  of  making  money.  Keep 
it  right  up,  Grace." 

"Yes,"  said  Betty  drolly,  "just  think  of  the 
good  you  can  do !" 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  MOTORCYCLIST  AGAIN 

"WHAT  a  glorious  morning !"  cried  Betty,  rais- 
ing her  face  to  the  brilliant  sunshine.  "I  feel  as 
if  I  could  walk  miles  and  miles  and  miles  and 
never  stop." 

"Well,  it's  lucky  for  you  that  you  do,"  sighed 
Grace.  "Perhaps  you'd  be  willing  to  walk  a  few 
for  me." 

"Oh,  don't  give  up.  Gracie  dear,  before  we've 
even  started,"  cried  Betty,  giving  a  little  exu- 
berant skip  with  the  sheer  joy  of  being  alive. 
"Anyway,"  she  added,  with  inspiration,  "if  you 
get  tired  you  and  Mollie  can  go  back  and  get  the 
car." 

"And  have  to  walk  miles  to  get  it,"  Grace  ob- 
jected. "No,  Betty,  you'll  have  to  think  up  some- 
thing better  than  that." 

"I  wouldn't  waste  my  time  on  such  a  lazy  per- 
son, Betty,"  said  Mollie,  who  was  walking  briskly 
ahead  with  Amy.  "I  suppose  we  might  have 
brought  the  car,"  she  added,  after  a  minute,  "only 

168 


THE   MOTORCYCLIST   AGAIN  169 

it  seems  foolish  when  you  have  to  stop  at  every 
house  you  come  to." 

"It  not  only  seems  foolish — it  is  foolish,"  said 
Betty  cheerily. 

"Oh,  I  tell  you  what,"  cried  Amy,  seized  with 
sudden  inspiration,  while  the  girls  stared  at  her 
expectantly. 

"Hasten,  Amy,"  cried  Mollie,  in  a  mock  agony 
of  suspense.  "Do  not  keep  us  waiting  in  this 
fashion." 

"Well,"  said  Amy  with  a  twinkle,  "let's  buy 
a  couple  of  the  worst  sounding  horns  we  can  find 
in  town,  go  back  and  get  Mollie's  car " 

"Yes?"  they  queried  breathlessly. 

"And  go  through  the  streets  tooting  the  horns 
until  we've  collected  a  crowd,"  finished  Amy  tri- 
umphantly. 

"And  when  we've  got  it,  what'll  we  do  with 
it  ?"  queried  Mollie  reasonably. 

"Well,  I  should  think  you'd  guess  the  rest,"  re- 
marked Amy.  "We  could  just  tell  'em  what  we'd 
come  for,  that's  all,  and  ask  all  who  were  willing 
to  take  a  'guest'  to  say  'aye.' ' 

"Never  mind,  dear,  there's  still  hope,"  re- 
marked Mollie,  patting  her  arm  soothingly.  "The 
doctor  said,  with  absolute  rest  and  quiet,  you 
might  get  over  it." 

Betty  chuckled.    Grace  did  not,  for  the  reason 


170    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

that  her  feet  were  beginning  to  hurt  and  she  did 
not  feel  in  a  chuckling  mood. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  but  what  there's  some- 
thing in  your  idea  after  all,  Amy,"  she  said,  while 
Amy  looked  immensely  gratified.  "I'm  in  favor 
of  anything  that  cuts  out  walking." 

'*  'Cuts  out'  ?"  queried  Mollie  reprovingly. 

"Yes,  cuts  out,"  returned  Grace,  sticking  to  her 
guns.  "What  do  you  say,  Betty?  Don't  you 
think  Amy  has  the  right  idea?" 

"Well,"  said  Betty  diplomatically,  while  her 
eyes  twinkled  at  the  imaginary  spectacle  of  whirl- 
ing through  the  streets  of  the  town,  blowing  rau- 
cously on  horns  and  making  stump  speeches  from 
the  running  board  of  the  machine,  "it  would  at 
least  have  the  advantage  of  being  spectacu- 
lar  " 

"There,  Mollie!"  cried  Amy,  not  waiting  for 
her  to  finish,  the  light  of  triumph  in  her  eyes. 
"You  see  it's  three  to  one.  Now,  what  have  you 
got  to  say  for  yourself?" 

"Nothing,"  remarked  Mollie  dryly,  "except  to 
suggest  that  you  wait  until  Betty  gets  through. 
I  imagine  she  hadn't  said  all  she  wanted  to  on 
the  subject." 

"Hadn't  you,  Betty?"  queried  Amy,  a  trifle  dis- 
concerted and  looking  back  at  Betty  over  her 
shoulder. 


THE   MOTORCYCLIST   AGAIN 


171 


"We-11,"  said  Betty  slowly,  "I  never  say  a  thing 
can't  be  done  until  it's  tried " 

"There!"  Grace  exclaimed,  but  Betty  inter- 
rupted her. 

"But,"  she  said  hastily,  "I  think  it  might  be  just 
as  well  to  try  the  less  spectacular  method  first. 
Don't  you?" 

Both  Amy  and  Grace  heaved  a  great  sigh  of 
disappointment. 

"For  one  beautiful  moment,"  said  Grace  plain- 
tively, "I  dared  to  hope  that  you  were  with  us, 
Betty." 

"Goodness,  I  am!"  exclaimed  the  latter,  wil- 
fully misunderstanding.  "With  you  to  the  death, 
if  need  be.  But  look,"  she  added  as  they  turned 
a  corner,  "Methinks  we  have  pretty  nearly 
reached  the  scene  of  our  activity." 

"Methinks  it's  pretty  nearly  time,"  groaned 
Grace. 

"I  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  suggested  Betty,  as 
they  crowded  eagerly  about  her.  "It  will  save 
time,  and,  I  think,  be  the  easiest  way.  We'll  each 
one  take  an  entire  street,  visit  as  many  of  the 
houses  as  possible  within  an  hour,  and  at  the  end 
of  that  time  we'll  meet  here  again  and  each  make 
her  report." 

The  others  agreed  to  this,  and  they  separated, 
each  determined  to  find  as  many  boarding  places 


172    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

as  possible  for  those  relatives  and  friends  who 
wished  to  be  near  their  soldier  boys. 

At  the  end  of  the  hour  they  met  again,  looking 
a  little  warm  and  tired,  but  immensely  trium- 
phant. 

Grace  was  wildly  excited. 

"Yes,  I  found  places,"  she  said,  in  answer  to  a 
question  from  Betty.  "But  what  do  you  think? — 
I  saw  that  motorcyclist." 

"You  did!"  came  in  a  chorus  from  the  other 
Outdoor  Girls. 

"Of  course  you  mean  the  rascal  who  ran  down 
poor  Mrs.  Sanderson,"  came  from  Mollie. 

"The  same.  I  was  so  startled  I  hardly  knew 
what  to  do.  He  was  coming  from  a  small  hotel — 
not  a  very  nice  place." 

"Maybe  that  is  where  he  plays  cards,"  sug- 
gested Betty. 

"As  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  leaped  on  his  motor- 
cycle and  left  in  a  hurry,  before  I  had  a  chance 
to  say  a  word  to  him." 

"What  a  shame  that  you  didn't  have  a  chance 
to  have  him  arrested,"  cried  Amy. 

The  girls  talked  the  matter  over  for  several 
minutes.  As  the  motorcyclist  was  gone  there 
seemed  nothing  they  could  do. 

"But  we'll  keep  our  eyes  open  for  him,"  de- 
clared Betty. 


THE   MOTORCYCLIST   AGAIN  173 

"I  think  this  is  the  most  wonderful  town," 
Mollie  remarked  after  a  pause.  "Why  there's 
hardly  a  house  that  I  visited  but  what  the  people 
were  willing  to  accommodate  at  least  one  boarder, 
and  in  some  cases  two  or  three,  and,  what's 
more,"  waving  her  hand  enthusiastically,  "several 
of  them  didn't  even  want  to  take  any  money  for 
it." 

"And  I  found  almost  the  very  same  thing," 
agreed  Betty,  as  they  linked  arms  and  started  on 
the  homeward  walk.  "I  guess  we  have  enough 
promises  to  start  with  now,  and  I  don't  think  we'll 
have  any  trouble  rinding  quarters  for  all  who  want 
them." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Mrs.  Watson  is  right 
about  our  reputation,"  said  Grace,  a  little  ruefully. 
"Because  the  minute  Mrs.  Robinson  opened  the 
door  and  saw  me  she  said  she  hadn't  the  slightest 
idea  what  I  was  going  to  ask  her  this  time,  but, 
seeing  it  was  one  of  the  girls  from  the  Hostess 
House,  she  expected  to  say  yes,  anyway." 

The  girls  laughed  and  for  some  time  afterward 
walked  on  in  silence,  busy  with  their  thoughts. 
Then  suddenly  Betty  spoke. 

"Girls,"  she  said  soberly,  "Mrs.  Sanderson  is 
almost  well  again  and  I  don't  think  we'll  be  able 
to  keep  her  with  us  very  much  longer." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  they  cried  togetKer, 


174    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

their  voices  showing  how  very  real  their  concern 
was. 

"Well,"  Betty  explained  slowly,  "it  seems  she 
overheard  some  of  us  girls  talking  about  the  rush 
of  work  in  store  for  us  and  got  it  into  her  head 
that  we  might  need  her  room." 

"But  I  don't  see  what  difference  that  makes," 
protested  Mollie.  "As  long  as  we're  doubling  up 
and  giving  her  our  room." 

"Well,  of  course,  it  appears  that  way  to  us," 
replied  Betty,  shaking  her  head  thoughtfully. 
"But  I'm  afraid  we  can't  hope  to  make  her  see  it 
so.  Anyway,  Mrs.  Watson  said  she  spoke  to  her 
about  it  and  said  she  would  be  going  as  soon  as 
she  had  a  chance  to  say  good-bye  to  the  'young 
ladies/  " 

For  a  long  time  the  girls  stared  straight  before 
them,  deeply  troubled.  It  was  not  so  much  the 
thought  of  losing  the  old  lady,  although,  having 
grown  fond  of  her,  they  would  miss  her  badly, 
as  it  was  the  realization  that  here  was  one  person 
in  deep  trouble,  whose  burden  they  could  not  seem 
in  any  way  to  lighten. 

"And  we  haven't  been  able  to  get  hold  of  that 
motorcyclist,"  mourned  Mollie.  "It  makes  me 
simply  ferocious,"  she  added,  with  sudden  vigor, 
"to  think  of  his  getting  away  with  a  thing  like 
that  and  not  even  a  day  in  prison  to  show  for  it" 


THE   MOTORCYCLIST   AGAIN  175 

"And  now  with  the  boys  gone,"  added  Amy, 
"I  don't  suppose  we'll  have  a  chance  in  the  world 
of  capturing  him." 

"Humph,"  groaned  Grace  disgustedly,  the  tem- 
porary glow  of  success  fading  before  the  torture 
of  aching  feet,  "I  don't  see  that  they  helped  very 
much  when  they  were  here.  We  did  the  suggest- 
ing, and  all  they  did  was  to  laugh  at  our  sugges- 
tions  " 

"Well,  there's  no  use  in  saying  things  about 
them  now  they're  gone,"  said  Amy,  but  Mollie 
caught  her  up  indignantly. 

"Goodness,  Amy,"  she  cried,  "it  may  not  be 
your  fault  that  you  have  a  gloomy  disposition,  but 
you  don't  need  to  sound  exactly  like  a  funeral !" 

At  this  moment  they  were  startled  by  the  sound 
of  a  machine  coming  behind  them  at  furious 
speed.  Some  chickens,  crossing  the  road  and 
pecking  lazily  as  they  went,  scurried  with  alarmed 
squawking  into  the  woods  on  either  side. 

The  girls,  turning,  started,  gasped,  then  stared 
at  each  other. 

"The  motorcyclist!"  cried  Mollie,  as  they 
turned  and  ran  after  the  fast  disappearing  ma- 
chine. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    CHASE 

"I — I — DON'T  know  what  we're  running  after 
him  for!"  gasped  Mollie.  "We  haven't  got  a 
chance — in  the  world — of  catching — him." 

"Look,"  panted  Betty,  pointing  to  a  machine 
at  the  side  of  the  road  with  a  man  in  chauffeur's 
uniform  sitting  behind  the  wheel,  "maybe  we  can 
get  him !  Quick " 

Betty's  action  always  followed  hard  upon  the 
heels  of  impulse,  and  before  any  of  the  girls  had 
time  to  realize  what  she  was  going  to  do  she  had 
darted  across  the  road,  had  said  a  few  excited 
words,  and  was  tumbling  into  the  tonneau. 

Without  stopping  to  question,  the  girls  fol- 
lowed, jumping  in  beside  her,  and  the  chauffeur, 
after  one  surprised  look,  touched  his  cap  and  the 
machine  leapt  forward  like  a  wild  thing. 

Mollie  had  time,  even  in  her  excitement,  to 
wonder  how  Betty  had  managed  it. 

"I  think  she  hypnotizes  them,"  she  muttered  to 
herself. 

176 


THE   CHASE  177 

And  all  Betty  had  really  said  to  the  man  was, 
"Please  follow  that  motorcyclist!  We  mustn't 
lose  sight  of  him!"  and  the  man,  obeying  that 
impulse  for  adventure  that  is  in  all  of  us,  had 
complied. 

The  motorcyclist  had  sped  around  the  corner 
and  darted  into  one  of  the  side  streets.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  chauffeur  turned  the  same  cor- 
ner with  a  recklessness  that  made  them  gasp, 
turned  it  just  in  time  to  see  their  quarry  disap- 
pearing round  another  corner. 

"Gosh,  that  fellow  can  coax  some  speed  out  of 
that  machine  of  his!"  cried  the  man  at  the  wheel. 
"But  if  you  young  ladies  don't  mind  a  little  dan- 
ger, we  may  catch  him  yet." 

"Oh,  please  don't  think  about  us,"  cried  Betty, 
her  hands  clutching  the  back  of  the  seat,  her  eyes 
straining  after  the  flying  speck  that  seemed  to  be 
growing  smaller  every  second.  "Oh,  we  must 
catch  him, — we  must!  It  would  be  awful  to  lose 
him  now !" 

"Well,  here  goes,"  responded  the  man  behind 
the  wheel,  and  under  his  skillful  touch  the  ma- 
chine leapt  forward  like  a  spirited  horse  at  the 
touch  of  the  lash. 

"That's  it,  that's  it !"  cried  Mollie,  almost  beside 
herself  with  excitement.  "Just  hear  that  engine 
purr !  He  can't  get  away  from  us  now  1" 


178    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Oh,  if  we  could  only  take  him  back  to  Camp 
Liberty  with  us !" 

"I  thought  so,"  said  the  chauffeur,  and  even  in 
their  excitement  they  had  time  to  look  in  surprise 
at  his  back. 

"Wh-what  did  you  think?"  stammered  Betty. 

"That  you  were  the  girls  up  at  the  Hostess 
House  that  everybody  is  talking  about,"  he  told 
her,  while  the  girls  fairly  gasped  with  surprise  at 
this  proof  of  their  widespread  fame.  "That's 
why  I  didn't  ask  questions  but  just  did  as  I  was 
told,"  he  added.  And  somehow  they  knew, 
though  they  could  not  see  his  face,  that  he  was 
grinning.  "You  see,  I'd  always  heard  that  you 
most  always  got  what  you  set  out  to  get,  and  I 
didn't  waste  time  arguin',"  he  finished. 

The  girls  laughed  hysterically,  and  Betty  said, 
with  a  funny  little  inflection : 

"Sounds  as  if  we  were  very  strong-minded. 
But  we  don't  care  about  that,"  she  added,  once 
more  fixing  her  gaze  anxiously  on  the  road  before 
them,  "if  we  can  only  catch  that  man." 

"May  I  ask  who  he  is,  miss  ?"  asked  the  man. 

"He's — he's  a — criminal!"  returned  Betty,  her 
little  fists  clenched  fiercely. 

"A  criminal  ?"  he  repeated  with  interest.  "May 
I  ask  what  kind  ?" 

"A  murderer,"  cried  Mollie  fiercely,  adding,  as 


THE  CHASE  179 

the  man  started  and  the  girls  looked  at  her  in 
surprise :  "Well,  he  might  just  as  well  have  been. 
He  didn't  even  stop  to  see  whether  he  was  or  not, 
which  is  about  the  same  thing." 

There  was  a  sound  from  the  front  seat  that 
sounded  suspiciously  like  a  chuckle,  but  not  being 
quite  sure,  the  girls  could  do  nothing  whatever 
about  it. 

"But  look — he's  getting  away  from  us !"  wailed 
Amy  suddenly,  and  once  more  all  their  attention 
was  focused  on  the  chase. 

And,  quite  suddenly,  while  they  watched,  the 
motorcyclist  disappeared  from  view  as  if  the 
earth  had  opened  and  swallowed  him  up. 

A  few  seconds  later,  with  a  grinding  of  brakes, 
the  car  stopped  at  the  spot  where  he  had  disap- 
peared, and  the  girls  looked  at  one  another  de- 
spairingly. 

The  path  that  he  had  taken  seemed  no  more 
than  a  broad  foot  path  through  the  woods,  so 
narrow  that  no  machine  could  follow  him,  and  of 
course  there  was  no  chance  of  catching  him  on 
foot. 

"He  got  away  from  us!"  cried  Grace,  voicing 
a  rather  self-evident  fact. 

"I'm  afraid  so,  miss,"  said  the  man,  and  he 
seemed  so  genuinely  disappointed  that  they  looked 
at  him  gratefully.  "The  man  must  be  rather 


i8o    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

much  of  a  dare-devil,  your  criminal,"  he  added, 
eyeing  the  bumpy  path  thoughtfully.  "An  ordi- 
nary rider  wouldn't  be  able  to  go  two  yards  along 
that  path  without  coming  to  grief.** 

"Do  you  know  where  this  path  leads  to  ?"  asked 
Betty,  struck  with  a  sudden  inspiration.  "If 
there's  another  road  we  might  circle  round  and 
head  him  off." 

"Sorry,  miss,"  he  said,  "but  the  road  that  path 
leads  to  is  nothing  but  a  wagon  road,  and  we'd 
have  to  go  several  miles  before  we'd  cross  it.  And 
the  chances  are,"  he  added,  "that  the  fellow  would 
double  back  upon  himself  and  we'd  have  the  run 
for  nothing." 

Betty  shook  her  head  resignedly,  for,  hard  as 
it  was  to  relinquish  the  man,  all  that  the  chauffeur 
had  said  was  founded  on  hard  common  sense  and 
she  could  see  there  was  no  alternative. 

"I  guess  you're  right,"  she  said  at  last,  after  a 
pause  during  which  the  girls  had  looked  at  her 
hopefully.  Betty  so  often  found  a  way  where  no 
one  else  could  that  they  never  completely  gave  up 
hope  until  she  herself  relinquished  it. 

So  now  they  sighed  and  climbed  soberly  back 
into  the  machine. 

"Where  to?"  inquired  the  chauffeur,  as  he 
turned  the  car  and  headed  back  the  way  they  had 
come.  "If  you're  going  back  to  the  camp,"  he 


THE   CHASE  181 

suggested,  "I  can  take  you  there.  Or  anywhere 
you  say." 

"You've  been  awfully  good,"  cried  Betty,  with 
real  gratitude  in  her  voice.  "But  you  don't  have 
to  take  us  away 'back  to  camp.  If  you  will  drop 
us  at  the  end  of  the  road  we  can  walk  back."  All 
this  despite  sundry  vigorous  and  desperate  shak- 
ings of  Grace's  head  and  pantomimic  pointings 
toward  her  feet.  At  the  conclusion  of  Betty's 
sentence  she  groaned,  but  brightened  up  again  at 
the  chauffeur's  response. 

"It  won't  be  any  trouble,"  he  said,  "to  take 
you  all  the  way  back  to  camp.  In  fact" — a  little 
shyly— "I'd  like  to." 

"Then  we'd  be  very,  very  glad  to  accept,"  said 
Betty  cordially.  "For  we  have  walked  a  long  way 
and  are  rather  tired." 

At  the  gates  of  Camp  Liberty  they  got  out  of 
the  car,  thanked  the  chauffeur,  and  while  they 
were  hesitating  whether  or  not  to  offer  him  money 
for  his  trouble,  the  latter  turned  the  car  and,  with 
a  last  lifting  of  his  cap  and  waving  of  his  hand, 
was  gone. 

"Isn't  he  nice?"  sighed  Amy,  as  they  started 
toward  the  Hostess  House,  Grace  limping  a  little 
and  bringing  up  the  rear.  "Meeting  a  man  like 
that  gives  you  new  faith  in  human  nature." 

"Goodness,  Will  had  better  look  out,"  chaffed 


1 82    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

Mollie,  a  little  gleam  of  humor  shining  through 
her  weariness.  "I  always  thought  you  had  it  in 
you  to  run  off  with  a  chauffeur,  Amy." 

Before  Amy  had  time  to  retort  they  saw  a 
stalwart  and  familiar  figure  swinging  toward 
them  and  recognized  Sergeant  Mullins. 

"Good  afternoon,"  he  called  to  them,  with  the 
smile  that  always  so  surprisingly  lighted  up  his 
usually  grave  face.  "You  look  as  if  you  had  had 
rather  an  exciting  time  of  it." 

"Oh,  we  did  almost  have  such  a  beautiful  ad- 
venture!" cried  Mollie,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
the  memory  of  it. 

"And  all  we  really  got,"  said  Grace  gloomily, 
"were  four  pairs  of  sore  feet." 

Sergeant  Mullins  laughed  at  her  with  the  rest, 
then  asked,  with  real  interest : 

"But  the  adventure  that  you  almost  had, — 
would  you  mind  telling  me  about  it?" 

Whereupon  Betty  launched  into  a  full  and 
graphic  account  of  the  chase  in  somebody  else's 
automobile  after  an  unknown  criminal  who,  at 
the  last  minute,  had  escaped  in  an  apparently  im- 
possible manner. 

"And  that's  all  there  is  to  it,"  she  finished 
plaintively.  "After  all  our  trouble  and  every- 
thing, we  find  ourselves  just  where  we  were 
before." 


THE    CHASE  183 

The  sergeant  looked  very  grave. 

"The  man  was  a  cad,"  he  said,  "to  knock  down 
an  old  woman  that  way  and  then  not  stop  to  see 
how  badly  she  was  hurt.  I  wish  you  could  have 
won  out  to-day.  Could  you  give  a  good  descrip- 
tion of  him?" 

"Yes,  I  can,"  cried  both  Amy  and  Grace  in 
the  same  breath,  and  thereupon  proceeded  to  do  it 
without  delay.  At  the  description  the  sergeant's 
interest  grew  and  his  face  flushed  with  excite- 
ment. 

When  they  had  finished,  Betty,  who  had  been 
watching  his  face  closely,  unable  to  restrain  her 
curiosity  longer,  burst  forth  an  eager  question. 

"Have  you  seen  the  man,  Sergeant?" 

"I  think  I  have — often,"  he  replied  slowly, 
adding  as  they  turned  incredulous  eyes  upon  him. 
"If  I'm  not  mistaken,  this  criminal  of  yours  is 
one  of  the  most  famous  card  sharpers  of  the  day." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS 

FOR  a  moment  the  girls  stared.  Then  Sergeant 
Mullins  was  besieged  with  a  veritable  flood  of 
questions. 

"He  hangs  out  mostly  at  Thomasville,  a  town 
about  fifteen  miles  from  here,"  the  sergeant  ex- 
plained, when  at  last  the  girls  had  realized  that 
if  they  ever  hoped  to  learn  anything  at  all  they 
must  give  the  man  a  chance  to  speak.  "And  he 
makes  most  of  his  money  by  skinning  the 
rookies." 

"You  mean,"  cried  Betty,  translating  camp 
slang  into  intelligible  English,  "that  he  gets  the 
newly  enlisted  men  to  play  with  him  before  they 
have  a  chance  to  learn  his  reputation,  and  of 
course  gets  all  their  money,  because  his  game  is 
crooked  ?" 

"Exactly,"  agreed  Sergeant  Mullins,  his  grave 
face  clouding  angrily.  "And  equally,  of  course, 
it's  the  week  following  pay  day  when  he  makes 
his  big  haul.  I  hope  you  succeed  in  getting  him," 

184 


STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS  185 

he  said,  turning  earnestly  to  Betty.  "And  if 
there's  anything  I  can  do  to  help,  you  can  count 
on  me." 

Betty  thanked  him,  and  the  girls  watched  the 
Sergeant's  straight,  retreating  back  with  thought- 
ful eyes. 

"Well,  it's  a  comfort  anyway,"  said  Mollie,  as 
they  turned  and  went  into  the  house,  "to  know 
that  he's  as  bad  as  we  thought  he  was.  And  per- 
haps," she  added  hopefully,  "Sergeant  Mullins 
will  be  able  to  help  us." 

It  was  more  than  a  week  later  when  the  first 
eagerly  looked  for  letters  began  to  arrive  from 
overseas.  It  was  one  day  when  the  promised  rush 
of  soldiers  into  the  camp  had  been  fulfilled  and 
the  girls  were  particularly  busy  entertaining  and 
finding  comfortable  quarters  for  their  relatives 
and  friends  that  Mollie  whispered  the  joyful  news 
into  Betty's  ear. 

"Letters!"  she  cried.  "Letters,  honey!  Here 
are  yours,  two  of  them,  and  each  one  of  us  others 
got  one  apiece.  We've  decided  not  to  open  them 
until  to-night,  when  we'll  have  time  to  read  them 
in  comfort.  If  you'll  wait,  too " 

"Of  course,"  promised  Betty,  eagerly  accepting 
her  portion  of  the  precious  correspondence.  "And 
they're  thick  ones,  Mollie,  and " 

"Both  from  Allen,"  Mollie  finished  mischiev- 


1 86    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

ously,  looking  back  over  her  shoulder  to  enjoy 
Betty's  blush. 

And  that  night,  when  they  should  have  been 
tired  out  with  the  day's  unusually  hard  work,  the 
girls  assembled  in  their  one  big  room,  feeling 
more  wide  awake  than  ever  before  in  all  their 
lives. 

"Oh,  hasn't  it  been  perfectly  awful,"  cried 
Mollie,  facing  them  with  shining  eyes,  "to  have 
to  go  around  calmly  for  hours  and  hours  as  if 
nothing  had  happened?" 

"With  a  letter  just  begging  to  be  read,  too!" 
put  in  Betty,  two  fever  spots  of  excitement  on 
her  cheeks.  "I  don't  think  I  could  ever  do  it 
again." 

"Well,  it's  all  over  now,"  said  Amy,  taking 
her  own  thick  and  promising  looking  letter  from 
her  silk  blouse  where  it  had  rustled  and  crackled 
betrayingly  all  day.  "I  don't  know  about  you 
§irls,  but  I  just  can't  wait  another  second." 

"Oh,  please  wait  just  a  moment  until  I  get  my 
shoes  off,"  begged  Grace,  sinking  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed  and  removing  the  shoes  from  her 
aching  feet.  "Oh  dear,"  she  moaned,  "I  know 
I'll  have  to  get  a  size  larger  next  time,  and  if  I 
do  I'll  be  ashamed  to  be  seen  in  the  street." 

"Well,  even  my  patient  and  much-tried  pedal 
extremities  feel  a  little  the  worse  for  wear  to- 


STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS  187 

night,"  admitted  Mollie,  as  she  flung  a  shoe  vin- 
dictively to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room. 

"And  mine,"  agreed  Betty,  taking  up  the  plaint. 
"I  tell  you  what,"  she  added.  "Let's  all  just  get 
undressed  and  tumble  into  the  big  bed  and — enjoy 
ourselves." 

The  suggestion  was  unanimously  accepted,  and 
thereafter  various  soft  and  filmy  garments  flew 
thick  and  fast  as  the  girls  got  ready  for  the  treat 
which  had  been  postponed  all  through  the  long, 
long  day, — almost  the  longest  they  had  ever 
known. 

"Come  on,  Grade,"  called  Mollie,  as  barely  five 
minutes  later  three  figures  sat  propped  up  in  the 
bed,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  fourth.  "What's 
the  use  of  primping  to-night?  Nobody's  going  to 
see  you." 

"You  flatter  yourself,"  drawled  Grace,  as  she 
turned  away  from  the  mirror.  "Anyway,  I  once 
read  that  a  girl  should  never  allow  herself  to  look 
homely,  even  when  she's  alone." 

"Goodness,  if  I  have  to  work  so  hard  to  be 
beautiful,"  retorted  Mollie,  holding  her  letter  up 
to  the  light  in  a  vain  attempt  to  read  its  contents 
through  the  envelope,  "I'd  rather  be  good  and 
homely  and  comfortable." 

"If  all  wishes  were  so  easily  granted,"  Grace 
began,  but  at  the  look  in  Mollie's  eyes  thought 


l88    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

better  of  it.  "I  meant,"  she  corrected  herself 
blandly,  "that,  of  course,  you  can  never  be  any- 
thing but  beautiful,  Mollie." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  of  course,"  said  Mollie, 
with  the  same  vengeful  light  in  her  eyes,  "but 
I'm  always  suspicious  of  any  one  who  goes  to 
extremes." 

"Never  mind  your  suspicions,  Mollie,"  cried 
Betty,  with  a  happy  ring  in  her  voice,  as  the  last 
of  the  quartette  climbed  in  under  the  covers.  "All 
that  really  interests  me  now  is  the  fact  that  I  have 
a  couple  of  letters  that  are  just  begging  to  be 
read." 

"Yes,  and  I'd  like  to  know  if  that's  fair,"  said 
Grace,  looking  injured.  "We  only  got  one  apiece, 
while  here  you  are  rolling  in  luxury " 

"And  they're  both  in  the  same  handwriting — 
Allen's  of  course,"  added  Amy,  peeping  over 
Betty's  shoulder.  "Why  does  he  write  you  two 
letters  that  he  knows  will  both  reach  you  in  the 
same  mail,  Betty?" 

"Just  to  be  original,  I  suppose,"  answered 
Betty,  striving  to  speak  calmly  while  a  hot  flush 
mounted  to  her  forehead.  "Anyway,"  she  added 
lightly,  "I  suppose  the  best  way  to  satisfy  our 
curiosity  would  be  to  read  our  letters  and  find 
out." 

"Oh,  I  forgot,"  cried  Grace,  pushing  back  the 


STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS  189 

covers  and  slipping  out  of  bed.  "There's  just  one 
thing  better  than  reading  letters." 

"Now  what  are  you  after?"  cried  Mollie  de- 
spairingly. "Well,"  she  added,  tearing  open  her 
letter  decidedly,  "there's  one  thing  certain, — I'm 
not  going  to  wait  another  minute!" 

"Well,  nobody  asked  you  to,"  retorted  Grace, 
slipping  back  into  bed  with  the  precious  candy  box 
under  her  arm.  "And,  what's  more,"  she  added 
threateningly,  "if  you're  going  to  be  uncivil,  I 
won't  ask  you  to  share  my  candies." 

"Goodness!  now  isn't  that  the  limit?"  cried 
Betty  suddenly,  and  they  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 
She,  in  her  turn,  having  thought  aloud,  flushed 
and  turned  back  to  the  letter.  "I'm  sorry,"  she 
stammered.  "I  really  didn't  mean  to  interrupt 
you." 

"No  you  don't,  Betty  Nelson!"  cried  Mollie, 
slipping  a  hand  over  Allen's  letter  and  forcing 
Betty  to  meet  her  eyes.  "We  won't  any  of  us 
read  another  word  till  you  tell  us  what  you  were 
going  to  say." 

"Well,  you  don't  need  to,"  Betty  was  begin- 
ning when  she  met  Mollie's  eyes  and  laughed  re- 
signedly. 

"Oh,  all  right,"  she  capitulated.  "I  was  simply 
going  to  say  that  the  nosy  old  censor  crossed  out 
a  whole  line  just  at  the  most  interesting  part." 


190    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"What  was  it?"  coaxed  Amy  teasingly. 
"Come,  Betty  dear,  tell  us  what  he  said." 

"Goodness !"  cried  Betty  crossly,  getting  redder 
every  moment,  and  knowing  it,  "didn't  I  tell  you 
the  censor  crossed  it  out  ?" 

"You  know  very  well  that  wasn't  what  we 
meant,"  cried  Mollie,  with  a  frightful  frown. 
"Amy  was  referring  to  the  sentiments  on  both 
sides  of  the  censored  part." 

"Oh  well,  you  could  hardly  expect,"  Betty  was 
beginning,  when  Amy,  who  had.been  peeping  over 
her  shoulder  clapped  a  hand  to  her  mouth  too 
late  to  check  a- sudden  exclamation. 

"Oh  girls !"  she  cried  gleefully.  "What  I  saw ! 
What  I  saw!" 

"Amy  Blackf ord,"  Betty's  eyes  were  black  with 
real  anger  now,  "I  don't  know  how  you  could 
do  such  a  thing.  I  didn't  think  it  of  you !" 

Not  only  Amy,  but  the  other  girls  were  fright- 
ened by  this  sudden  change  in  their  usually  good- 
natured  Little  Captain,  and  Amy  hastened  to 
make  amends. 

"I'm  sorry,  Betty  dear,"  she  said,  flushing  with 
real  shame  beneath  Betty's  accusing  eyes.  "I 
didn't  mean  it — truly  I  didn't.  And  I'll  never  do 
it  again,  never!" 

"Oh,  all  right,"  replied  Betty,  controlling  her- 
self with  an  effort  and  turning  back  to  the  letter. 


STARTLING  DEVELOPMENTS  191 

"I'm  sorry  I  said  anything,  Amy,  if  you  didn't 
mean  it." 

There  was  a  little  constrained  silence  after  that, 
no  one  knowing  just  how  to  clear  the  rather  elec- 
tric atmosphere.  They  went  on  reading  absorb- 
edly,  only  the  crackling  of  the  paper  as  they 
turned  a  page  breaking  the  deep  stillness  of  the 
room. 

It  was  Betty  who  finally  relieved  the  tension. 

"If  that  doesn't  sound  just  like  Roy,"  she  said, 
and  they  looked  up  expectantly,  relieved  at  the 
naturalness  of  her  tone.  "Allen  says  that  he — 
Roy,  that  is — was  very  much  impressed  with  his 
first  sight  of  a  camouflaged  ship.  Said  he  had 
devised  a  fine  scheme  of  killing  off  the  German 
army  in  a  hurry.  He'd  disguise  himself  as  a 
piece  of  Limburger  cheese,  and  when  the  Huns 
came  running  to  him,  he'd  simply  give  them  a 
gentle  little  tap  on  the  head." 

"Humph,"  snorted  Mollie  contemptuously, 
"how  long  do  you  suppose  he'd  be  able  to  keep 
that  up?" 

"He  says  they'd  never  suspect  the  truth,"  Betty 
chuckled.  "They'd  simply  think  it  was  a  particu- 
larly husky  piece  of  cheese !" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

'HE   MIRACLE 

IT  was  only  a  few  days  later  that  the  wonder- 
ful, the  incredible  thing  happened  1 

The  girls  were  returning  from  a  rather  hurried 
excursion  to  a  near-by  town  when  they  came  face 
to  face,  with  the  motorcyclist.  His  motor  had 
evidently  stalled,  and  he  was  standing  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  road  tinkering  with  it. 

Paralyzed  by  the  suddenness  of  the  thing,  the 
girls  just  stood  still  and  stared  until  the  man, 
evidently  feeling  their  eyes  upon  him,  turned 
slowly  about  and  faced  them. 

He  seemed  to  recognize  them  immediately,  for 
his  first  look  of  bewilderment  was  followed 
quickly  by  one  of  fear,  and  with  an  abrupt 
motion  he  turned  back  to  his  machine. 

"Now  we  have  him,  what  are  we  going  to  do 
with  him?"* whispered  Mollie,  a  comical  look  of 
chagrin  on  her  face.  "We  can't  capture  him  all 
by  ourselves,  and  we  can  hardly  expect  him  to 

wait  while  we  get  some  one." 

192 


THE  MIRACLE  193 

"He  is  huskier  than  I  thought,"  admitted 
Grace,  adding  suddenly,  "Betty,  what  are  you  go- 
ing to  do  ?" 

But  Betty  either  did  not  hear  or  did  not  want 
to,  for  she  was  approaching  the  man  without  a 
backward  glance  in  their  direction.  Though  not 
knowing  just  what  was  about  to  happen,  the  girls 
followed  loyally,  close  at  her  heels. 

As  for  Betty,  she  simply  stepped  up  close  to 
the  man  and  stood  looking  at  him  steadily,  finally 
forcing  him  by  sheer  concentration  to  straighten 
up  and  meet  her  eyes. 

"Well,  who  are  you?"  he  demanded  at  last, 
gruffly. 

"That  was  just  the  question  I  was  about  to  put 
to  you,"  Betty  replied,  and  by  her  outward  com- 
posure no  one  could  possibly  have  guessed  how 
hard  her  heart  was.  beating.  "We  are  really  quite 
desirous  of  knowing  all  about  you." 

"May  I  ask,"  he  said,  his  cruel  mouth  sneering 
under  the  absurd  moustache,  "what  has  happened 
to  arouse  this  sudden  interest?" 

The  sneer  brought  a  flush  to  Betty's  face  and 
made  her  eyes  glow  angrily. 

"You  ought  to  know  that  without  my  telling 
you,"  she  said  coldly.  "Perhaps  you  will  remem- 
ber, if  I  recall  it  to  you,  the  day  you  knocked  an 
old  woman  down  in  the  middle  of  the  road  and 


194    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

then  rode  away  without  finding  out  how  seriously 
you  had  injured  her." 

"I  really  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about,"  the  man  replied,  with  an  attempt  to  ap- 
pear frank,  which  made  his  face  more  sinister 
than  before.  "You  must  have  mistaken  me  for 
some  one  else." 

"That's  impossible."  Mollie's  voice  was  crisp 
and  clear  cut,  and  the  man  glanced  with  surprise 
and  a  shadow  of  alarm  at  this  new  assailant. 

Then  suddenly  his  manner  of  cool  insolence 
changed,  and  he  shot  them  a  look  that  remained 
quiveringly  in  their  memories  long  after  the  man 
himself  had  passed  forever  out  of  their  lives. 

"Whoever  you  are,  you're  fools,"  he  said 
gruffly,  menacingly.  "And  if  you  don't  forget  all 
about  this  thing  you've  been  spouting  about,  I'll 
make  it  pretty  darned  unpleasant  for  you.  Get 
me?"  And,  with  a  quick  movement,  he  started 
his  motor  and  leaped  on  his  machine. 

Betty  sprang  forward  and  desperately  clutched 
the  handle  bars,  calling  on  the  girls  for  assistance, 
but  he  roughly  pushed  her  aside.  At  the  same 
moment  the  machine  leapt  forward  and  Betty 
knew  that  he  would  get  away  again. 

Then  it  was  the  first  miracle  happened.  Ser- 
geant Mullins,  out  on  a  hike  with  some  of  the 
rookies  from  the  camp,  the  sound  of  his  approach 


THE  MIRACLE  195 

deadened  by  the  putting  of  the  machine,  appeared 
around  the  turn  in  the  road,  coming  toward  them. 
To  keep  from  running  into  the  men,  which  would 
have  meant  a  nasty  spill,  the  motorcyclist  was 
forced  to  put  on  his  brake. 

The  men  would  have  gathered  to  one  side  of 
the  road  to  let  him  pass,  but  Betty's  shrill  cry 
arrested  them. 

"Don't  let  him  pass,"  she  implored  them  des- 
perately. "It's  our  criminal,  Sergeant  Mullins! 
Don't  you  see?  The  gambler!" 

But  Sergeant  Mullins,  in  one  swift  glance,  had 
already  taken  in  the  situation,  and  as  the  man 
tried  to  start  his  machine  he  sprang  forward  and 
grasped  the  handle  bars,  at  the  same  time  shout- 
ing orders  to  his  men. 

"Surround  him,  fellows !"  he  cried.  "This  man 
is  under  arrest !" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  the  gambler,  his 
eyes  glaring  with  the  rage  of  a  cornered  animal. 

"Don't  waste  your  breath,  Denham,"  retorted 
Sergeant  Mullins  coolly,  "your  reputation  isn't 
any  too  good  around  these  parts,  you  know,  and 
you'll  have  plenty  of  chance  to  do  your  shouting 
to  the  judge. 

"Never  mind  your  machine,"  he  added  sharply, 
as  the  fellow's  mean  eyes  glanced  about  desper- 
ately for  means  of  escape.  "The  boys  will  take 


196    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

care  of  that.  And,"  he  added  meaningly,  "I  have 
rather  a  life-sized  impression  that  you  won't  be 
needing  it  again  for  some  time  to  come !" 

Denham  shot  him  a  vicious  glance,  and  got  off 
sullenly  from  his  machine  while  a  group  of  sol- 
diers stepped  up  smartly  to  take  charge  of  it. 

With  his  prisoner  safely  guarded,  Sergeant 
Mullins  ordered  the  march  back  to  camp,  then 
drew  in  a  long  breath  and  looked  at  the  girls. 

"Well,"  he  said,  with  his  slow  smile,  "you  did 
it  that  time." 

"We !"  cried  Betty,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  ex- 
citement and  the  exhilaration  of  success.  "I 
should  say  you  did  the  .work  while  we  looked  on. 
Oh,  I'm  so  happy — and  so  grateful  to  you." 

"But  I  didn't  do  anything,"  he  protested,  smil- 
ing whimsically,  as  they  turned  to  follow  the  sol- 
diers and  their  prisoner.  "I  simply  let  the  boys 
do  the  work  while  I  looked  on." 

"Goodness !  what  do  we  care  how  it  happened 
as  long  as  it  did  ?"  cried  Mollie  happily.  "Maybe 
now  he'll  see  that  he  can't  run  down  old  ladies 
promiscuously  and  get  away  with  it." 

"Not  with  girls  like  you  on  his  trail,"  said  the 
sergeant  admiringly. 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  him,  now 
you've  got  him?"  asked  Grace,  repeating  almost 
word  for  word  the  question  Mollie  had  put  only 


THE  MIRACLE  197 

a  few  minutes  before.  "I  suppose  we've  got  to 
get  out  some  sort  of  definite  charge  against  him." 

"Yes,"  said  the  sergeant  thoughtfully.  "We 
can  put  him  in  the  guardhouse  up  at  camp  till  we 
have  a  chance  to  get  the  township  authorities  up 
here.  And,"  he  added,  turning  to  Betty,  "I'd  like 
to  have  an  interview  with  that  old  lady  of  yours, 
if  you  can  manage  it.  We'll  have  to  have  her  evi- 
dence, you  know." 

"Oh,  and  isn't  it  lucky  ?"  cried  Betty,  executing 
a  little  skip  in  her  excitement.  "She  told  us  only 
this  morning  that  she  was  feeling  perfectly  well 
again  and  would  go  away  to-morrow.  We  were 
worrying  ourselves  sick  about  it,  but  couldn't 
think  up  a  single  plan  to  keep  her  with  us.  And 

if  she  had  gone  before  this  happened "  she 

stopped,  overwhelmed  by  the  mere  contemplation 
of  the  tragedy. 

"I  still  feel  as  if  I  were  dreaming,"  said  Amy, 
as  they  entered  the  camp  gate.  "It  all  happened 
so  suddenly,  and  just  when  we  were  feeling  so 
awfully  blue." 

"Well,  I  know  I  wasn't  dreaming,"  said  Grace 
plaintively,  "because  in  my  excitement  I  dropped 
two  perfectly  good  candies  in  the  road  and  forgot 
to  pick  'em  up." 

They  laughed  at  her,  and  Betty  added  whim- 
sically : 


198    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"Perhaps  it  was  just  as  well  for  your  digestion 
that  you  did.  I  suppose  you'll  have  to  go  to  the 
guardhouse  to  explain  about  the  prisoner,"  she 
rather  stated  than  asked,  turning  to  Sergeant  Mul- 
lins. 

,  "Yes,"  he  said,  adding,  with  a  trace  of  hesita- 
tion: "It  won't  take  long  though,  and  if  you 
don't  mind  waiting  till  I  get  back  I'd  like  to  have 
that  talk  with  the  old  lady  he  knocked  down.  It's 
necessary  to  see  her  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Goodness,  we  don't  mind  waiting,"  cried 
Betty.  "And  you  can't  see  her  too  quickly  to 
suit  us.  we're  just  crazy  to  see  the  whole  thing 
settled " 

"And  that  brute  behind  the  bars,"  finished  Mol- 
lie  vindictively. 

Sergeant  Mullins  laughed  boyishly,  saluted 
smartly,  and  turned  on  his  heel  to  follow  the  boys 
who  were  fast  bearing  the  prisoner  to  the  guard- 
house and  from  there  to  the  just  punishment  that 
had  been  so  long  in  overtaking  him. 

"Well,"  said  Mollie,  as  she  flopped  down  on 
the  steps  and  favored  the  girls  with  a  beaming 
smile,  "now  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  your- 
selves ?" 

"More  in  truth  than  in  modesty,"  twinkled 
the  Little  Captain,  "I  should  say  that  we  are 
pretty  good." 


THE  MIRACLE 

"My !  don't  we  love  us?"  queried  Grace,  fishing 
up  from  her  pocket  a  much-mangled  and  sadly 
worn  chocolate  and  calmly  inserting  it  between 
two  very  pretty  rows  of  white  teeth.  "It's  really 
touching " 

"Oh,  Grace,  how  can  you  think  of  candies  at  a 
time  like  this?"  cried  Mollie  impatiently. 

"Don't  know,"  returned  Grace,  calmly  nib- 
bling. "It's  a  gift,  I  guess." 

"Grade,  you're  an  awful  goose,"  cried  Betty, 
hugging  her  impulsively.  "But  I'm  so  happy,  I'll 
forgive  you  even  that " 

"It's  you  that  ought  to  be  forgiven  for  calling 
me  names,"  returned  Grace,  in  an  injured  tone  of 
voice.  "Goodness,"  she  cried,  a  moment  later, 
pointing  a  moist  and  tired  chocolate  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  horizon.  "Am  I  mistaken,  or  is  that 
the  stalwart  figure  of  our  sergeant  approaching  in 
the  distance?" 

"Oh,  it  is,  it  is!"  cried  Betty,  springing  to  her 
feet  and  fairly  dancing  in  her  excitement  and  im- 
patience. "Oh,  I  can't  wait!  Why  doesn't  he 
hurry?" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  sergeant  was  hurrying 
very  much  indeed,  for  he  was  almost  as  eager  as 
the  girls  to  see  the  old  lady  and  collect  the  evi- 
dence in  the  case  against  the  motorcyclist. 

He  was  panting  as  he  sprang  up  the  steps  to- 


200    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

ward  them  and  his  eyes  were  bright  with  antici- 
pation. 

"I  got  back  as  soon  as  I  could,"  he  cried. 
"Now,  if  you  can  take  me " 

The  girls  wasted  no  time  in  words,  and  led  him 
swiftly  up  the  stairs,  pausing  before  Mrs.  San- 
derson's door. 

"What  shall  we  do  if  she's  gone?"  whispered 
Betty,  a  sudden  panic  seizing  her.  Then,  with- 
out further  delay,  rapped  smartly  on  the  door. 

At  the  answering  "come  in"  they  tumbled  into 
the  room,  followed  by  Sergeant  Mullins.  Then 
it  was  the  second  miracle  happened! 

Mrs.  Sanderson  started,  stared,  then  rose  trem- 
blingly to  her  feet. 

"My  Willie  boy!"  she  cried,  groping  toward 
him,  dazed,  unbelieving,  incredulous.  "It's  my 
boy,  my  little  son — my — baby " 

Then  Sergeant  Mullins,  with  a  hoarse  cry, 
rushed  across  the  room  and  gathered  the  little 
figure  in  his  arms — strong,  man's  arms  that 
crushed  and  hurt. 

"Mother !"  he  cried.    "Oh,  my  mother !" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

MYSTERY   EXPLAINED 

THE  girls  stared  for  a  moment,  dazed,  bewil- 
dered. Stared  at  the  dark  head  bent  in  such  pas- 
sionate tenderness  over  the  gray  one,  stared  at  the 
old  hands  patting  the  broad  young  shoulders, 
tremblingly,  joyfully,  incredulously,  then,  with  a 
stifled  gasp,  turned  and  fled. 

Betty  closed  the  door  softly  and  followed  the 
girls  into  their  own  room  where  they  sank  down 
on  arms  of  chairs  or  tables  or  the  edge  of  the  bed 
— any  place — and  went  on  staring,  only  this  time 
at  each  other. 

"Betty  Nelson,"  Mollie  broke  out  at  last,  her 
eyes  dark  and  wide,  her  voice  awed,  "did  you  ever 
in  your  life  hear  of  such  a  thing?" 

"Of  course  I  never  did,"  answered  Betty,  her 
lips  trembling,  her  eyes  shining  and  wet.  "Not 
since  my  fairy-story  days,  anyway,"  she  added 
softly. 

"But  how,"  Grace  demanded,  still  too  dazed  to 
201 


202    OUTDOOR  GfRLS  ATfTHE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

think  clearly,  "can  Mrs.  Sanderson's  son  be  Wil- 
liam Mullins?" 

"Goodness !  how  do  we  know  ?"  returned  Mol- 
lie,  wiping  two  tears  from  the  end  of  her  nose. 
"It's  all  the  biggest  kind  of  a  m-mystery,  any- 
way. Oh,  dear,  has  anybody  got  a  handker- 
chief?" as  two  other  tears  threatened  to  make 
their  appearance.  "I  didn't  know  I  had  it  in  me 
to  be  such  a  goose." 

"We  seldom  do  realize  our  possibilities," 
drawled  Grace,  but  Mollie  was  too  busy  wiping 
away  the  traces  of  her  weakness  to  notice  the  in- 
sult. 

"And  to  think,"  Amy  murmured  softly,  "that 
if  that  old  motorcyclist  hadn't  knocked  Mrs.  San- 
derson down,  she  would  have  gone  away  without 
finding  her  son,  and  the  chances  are  she  would 
never  have  seen  him  again." 

"I  suppose  you  think  we  ought  to  send  the 
motorcyclist  a  vote  of  thanks,"  remarked  Mollie 
dryly,  recovering  herself  a  little.  "If  he  keeps 
on  knocking  old  ladies  down  in  the  middle  of  the 
road  and  then  gets  himself  arrested,  he  may  be 
counted  on  to  do  a  lot  of  good  in  the  world." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  say  such  silly  things," 
Amy  began  hotly,  when  Betty  broke  in  plead- 
ingly: 

"Please,  please,  girls !"  she  said,  smiling  as  only 


MYSTERY  EXPLAINED  203 

Betty  knew  how  to  smile.  "What  is  the  use  of 
quarreling  about  miracles?  The  most  wonderful 
thing  in  all  the  world  has  happened,  and  what  do 
we  care  how  it  happened  ?  Just  think  of  it !"  she 
added,  leaning  forward  eagerly.  "Only  this 
morning  we  were  feeling  discouraged  and  down- 
hearted because  Mrs.  Sanderson  was  going  away 
to-morrow  and  we  couldn't  think  of  a  thing  to  do 
to  help  her.  Then  all  in  one  day,  in  an  hour, 
really,  we  capture  the  motorcyclist  and  find  her 
son  for  her.  It's  no  wonder  I  can't  seem  to  make 
myself  believe  I  haven't  dreamed  it  all,"  she  fin- 
ished, with  such  a  look  of  utter  happiness  on  her 
face  that  Mollie  slipped  an  arm  about  her  and 
hugged  her  fondly. 

"You  know,  Betty,"  she  said  solemnly,  "I'm  al- 
most beginning  to  have  a  superstitious  belief  in 
you." 

"Goodness!  Why?"  cried  Betty,  while  the 
other  two  looked  at  Mollie  wonderingly.  "What 
have  I  done  now  that  you  should  say  such  things 
and  treat  me  thus?" 

"Why,  I  was  just  thinking,"  Mollie  replied 
with  rare  earnestness,  "that,  as  usual,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  we  probably  wouldn't  have  arrested 
the  gambler — or  rather,  given  Sergeant  Mullins  a 
chance  to — and  so  wouldn't  have  brought  him 
here  to  find  out  he  belonged  to  our  little  old  lady." 


204    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

"But  I  don't  see  how "  Betty  was  begin- 
ning in  real  bewilderment  when  Mollie  inter- 
rupted her  impatiently. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  do,"  she  said,  with  fond 
severity.  "You  never  do  give  yourself  credit  for 
anything,  anyway,  Betty  Nelson.  But  who  was 
it,  I'd  like  to  know,  that  first  had  courage  to  go 
up  and  speak  to  that  criminal  ?" 

"Oh,  that !"  said  Betty,  sinking  back  relievedly. 
"Anybody  could  have  done  that." 

"Perhaps  anybody  could,"  retorted  Mollie  prac- 
tically. "But  you  notice  nobody  else  did,  don't 
you,  Betty  Nelson?" 

"Well,  I  know,  but  that  didn't  have  anything 
to  do  with  capturing  him,"  argued  Betty,  deter- 
mined not  to  take  any  more  than  her  share  of  the 
credit — and  not  that,  if  she  could  help  it.  "If 
Sergeant  Mullins  hadn't  happened  along  just  at 
that  moment,  he'd  have  gotten  away  from  us  the 
way  he  did  those  other  times." 

"Yes,  but  who  delayed  him,  I'd  like  to  know," 
Mollie  flung  back  triumphantly,  "and  gave  the 
Sergeant  time  to  come  along  and  finish  up  the 
work?" 

"All  right,"  laughed  Betty.  "I'll  admit  that 
much,  since  you  insist.  But  what  earthly  differ- 
ence does  it  make,  anyway,  as  long  as  it's  done  ?" 
she  cried.  "Just  think,"  her  voice  trembled  a  lit- 


MYSTERY  EXPLAINED  205 

tie,  "how  happy  those  two  must  be  in  there !  I — 
I — oh,  I  can't  believe  it  yet." 

"Well,  but  that's  still  troubling  me,"  said 
Grace,  so  apropos  of  nothing  at  all  that  they  just 
stared  at  her. 

"Goodness,  don't  look  at  me  like  that,"  she 
cried  irritably,  getting  up  and  walking  round  the 
room.  "You  know  I  always  did  hate  mysteries." 

"We  should  be  very  much  obliged,"  said  Mol- 
lie,  with  forced  politeness,  "if  you  would  tell  us 
what  you're  raving  about." 

"Goodness,  don't  you  even  see  there  is  a  mys- 
tery?" she  cried,  facing  them  impatiently.  "How 
in  the  world  could  Sergeant  Mullins  ever  be  Mrs. 
Sanderson's  son?" 

"You'd  better  ask  *em,"  chuckled  Mollie. 
"They  both  seemed  so  tolerably  sure  of  it  that 
we've  taken  it  for  granted.  What's  the  deep,  dark 
mystery?" 

"Grace  means,"  it  was  Amy  who  acted  the 
peacemaker  this  time,  "that  it's  strange  about  the 
name." 

"And,  of  course,  it  is,"  Betty  added  gravely. 
"Sergeant  Mullins  should  by  all  rights  be  Ser- 
geant Sanderson." 

"And  Mrs.  Sanderson  couldn't  have  known 
about  his  being  called  Mullins,"  Grace  broke  in 
eagerly,  "because  we've  spoken  to  her  of  Ser- 


206    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

geant  Mullins  more  than  once,  and  she  never  acted 
as  though  more  than  casually  interested." 

"Well,  but  I  suppose  that's  easily  enough  ex- 
plained," said  Mollie,  who  was  in  no  mood  for 
details — the  actual  occurrences  being  wonderful 
enough  in  themselves  to  occupy  her  attention  for 
some  time  to  come.  "People  often  enough  change 
their  last  names  for  some  reason  or  other." 

"Then  you  mean,"  said  Grace,  "that  William 
Mullins  is  really  William  Sanderson?" 

"A  fair  assumption,"  returned  Mollie  dryly. 
"Unless  Mrs.  Sanderson's  name  is  Mullins." 

"Perhaps  the  best  way,"  suggested  Betty  peace- 
ably, "would  be  to  wait  and  let  Mrs.  Sanderson 
tell  us  about  it." 

"Wait "  Grace  was  beginning,  when  a  gen- 
tle tap  sounded  on  the  door  and  Betty  flew  to 
open  it. 

On  the  threshold  stood  Mrs.  Sanderson,  her 
eyes  red  with  weeping,  yet  her  whole  face  so 
transformed  with  joy  that  the  girls  would  hardly 
have  recognized  her  as  the  Mrs.  Sanderson  of 
that  morning.  Instinctively  they  glanced  over 
her  shoulder,  expecting  to  see  the  tall  figure  of 
Sergeant  Mullins  looming  in  the  background,  but 
he  was  nowhere' to  be  seen. 

"He's — he's  gone,"  said  the  little  old  lady  trem- 
ulously, seeming  to  interpret  their  glances,  at  the 


MYSTERY  EXPLAINED  207 

same  time  coming  timidly  into  the  room.  "He 
told  me  to  tell  you,"  her  face  lighted  up  still  more 
with  that  wonderful  inward  joy,  "that  he  would 
have  stayed  and  thanked  you  young  ladies,  but 
he'd  made  sort  of  an  idiot  of  himself — so  he  said 
— an*  would  be  around  later,  instead." 

"And  is  he  really — really — really  your  son?" 
cried  Betty,  unable  to  contain  herself  longer, 
pressing  the  old  lady  into  a  chair  and  kneeling 
down  before  her  eagerly.  "Oh,  we  knew  you'd 
come  and  tell  us !  We've  been  so  very  happy  for 
you." 

"Yes,  he's  my  Willie  boy,"  answered  the  little 
old  lady,  speaking  dreamily  as  though  even  yet  she 
was  not  able  to  grasp  the  wonderful  thing  that 
had  happened  to  her.  "It's  strange  when  I  come 
to  think  of  it  how  I  knew  him  right  away  be- 
cause, you  see,  I've  always  sort  o'  thought  of  him 
as  my  little  son,  my  baby,  and  in  my  mind  I've  al- 
ways seen  him  as  he  was  that  day  he  ran  away. 
But  he's  really  just  the  same — my  little  Willie 
boy— only  taller  and  sort  o'  broader  in  the  shoul- 
ders an'  handsomer "  her  voice  broke  and 

Betty  slipped  a  sympathetic  little  hand  in  hers 
while  the  girls  gathered  closer. 

"You  see,  I've  been  prayin'  for  this  thing  for  a 
good  many  years,"  she  went  on  quaintly,  "an*  it 
looks  like  Providence  sort  o'  saw  fit  to  answer  me 


208    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

at  last.  An'  He  jest  picked  out  the  sweetes*  little 
ladies  He  could  find  to  be  His  instruments." 

The  girls  laughed  unsteadily  and  Betty's  young 
hand  tightened  on  the  old'  one. 

"We  feel  as  if  it  all  must  be  a  fairy  story," 
she  said  softly. 

"That's  jest  what  it  is — a  fairy  story,"  cried 
the  little  old  lady,  turning  those  wonder-filled  eyes 
upon  them. 

"It  must  have  seemed  sort  o*  strange  to  you 
about  the  name,"  she  added,  after  a  short  pause. 

Betty  saw  that  Grace  was  about  to  interrupt, 
but  a  warning  glance  stopped  her. 

"You  see,  his  real  name  is  William  Mullins 
Sanderson.  But  when  he  ran  away  he  dropped 
the  Sanderson  so's  they  couldn't  arrest  him  for 
somethin'  he  didn't  do — poor  little  lad."  Her 
voice  was  very  soft  and  her  eyes  tender.  "He 
would  have  come  back  to  me,  only  he  heard  that 
I  was  dead  and  thought  'twasn't  any  use.  He 
said  he'd  jest  been  eatin*  his  heart  out,  thinkin*  of 
old  days  an'  how  he'd  promised  to  make  a  fortune 
for  us  both  an*  buy  a  big  house  where  I  wouldn't 
ever  have  to  work  again  'less  I  wanted  to.  An' 
now  he  says,"  she  straightened  up  and  her  eyes 
flashed  with  pride  in  him,  "he  says,  soon's  the  war 
is  over  he's  goin'  to  make  that  old  dream  come 
true. 


MYSTERY  EXPLAINED  209 

"He'd  been  studyin*  to  be  a  lawyer,  an*  had  jest 
passed  his  'bar  exams' — so  he  called  'em — when 
the  war  broke  out,  an*  he  jes'  couldn't  resist  the 
call  o'  the  bugle.  O'  course  he  couldn't!"  Once 
more  was  heard  that  thrill  of  pride.  "Wasn't  he 
my  Willie  boy,  who  had  the  blood  of  fightin'  an- 
cestors in  his  veins  as  well  as  brains  an'  a  love 
o'  book  larnin'  from  his  pa? 

"But  he  says  when  the  war's  over  he's  goin' 
back  to  his  books  an'  make  good,  an',"  with  sim- 
ple assurance;  "I  know  he  will.  Jest  think,"  she 
added  dreamily,  "my  little  son,  a  lawyer ! 

"But  I  ain't  never  goin'  to  forget,"  she  cried, 
flinging  her  head  up  with  a  martial  gesture,  "that 
first  of  all,  he  was  a  soldier!" 


CHAPTER  XXV 
TO  "CARRY  ON" 

"I  COULD  be  completely  happy,"  sighed  Betty, 
"if  it  weren't  for  just  one  thing." 

It  was  more  than  a  week  after  the  wonderful 
discovery  in  their  Sergeant  Mullins  as  Mrs.  San- 
derson's long  lost  son,  and  until  this  afternoon  the 
girls  had  hardly  been  able  to  find  a  minute  to  get 
together  and  discuss  the  remarkable  affair. 

But  to-day  they  had  secured  very  reliable  sub- 
stitutes to  fill  their  places  for  a  few  hours  and 
the  Outdoor  Girls  had  decfded  to  make  the  most 
of  this  rare  holiday. 

Mollie  had  suggested  a  spin  in  the  machine,  and 
the  girls  had  eagerly  assented,  anxious  to  blow 
the  cobwebs  of  hard  work  and  confinement  from 
their  brains  and  get  out  on  the  open  road  where 
they  could  think  clearly  and  freely. 

Exhilarated  by  the  rushing  air  and  the  sun- 
shine, Mollie  put  on  extra  speed,  then  gazed  side- 
wise  and  wickedly  at  Amy. 

"  'Oh,  Mollie,  do  be  careful/  "  she  mimicked. 
210 


TO   "CARRY   OAT  211 

"  'I  don't  care  about  dying,  but  I'd  rather  choose 
a  neater  death !'  " 

But  for  once  Amy  refused  to  bite.  She  simply 
smiled  calmly  and  helped  herself  to  another  of 
Grace's  fast  disappearing  chocolates. 

"Go  as  far  as  you  like,  dear,"  was  her  surpris- 
ing comment.  "I  feel  rather  wild  and  woolly  my- 
self to-day.  Nothing  you  could  do  would  bother 
me." 

The  girls  looked  surprised — Mollie  anxious. 

"Goodness,"  she  said  disconsolately,  "that  takes 
away  half  the  fun.  What's  the  use  of  teasing 
you  when  you  won't  tease?" 

"Does  seem  rather  a  waste  of  time,"  remarked 
Amy,  and  they  gaped  anew. 

"Goodness,  what  has  come  over  the  child?" 
asked  Grace  of  Betty,  adding  with  sudden  sus- 
picion, "She  must  have  had  a  letter." 

"Did  you  ?"  they  cried  all  at  once,  fixing  accus- 
ing eyes  upon  her. 

"You  must  be  joking,"  Amy  answered  plain- 
tively. "I  haven't  had  a  letter  for  so  long  I 
don't  know  what  it  would  look  like." 

"It  is  just  about  time  we  heard  from  the  boys 
again,"  said  Betty  thoughtfully.  "Has  anybody 
been  to  the  post-office  to-day?" 

It  seemed  nobody  had,  for  everybody  had  been 
too  busy ;  so  Mollie  made  an  abrupt  turn,  almost 


212    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

sending  the  car  into  a  ditch,  and  headed  back  for 
town. 

"Now  what  are  you  doing?"  queried  Amy 
plaintively. 

"Going  to  remedy  an  awful  mistake,"  Mollie 
replied  shortly.  "I  couldn't  enjoy  my  holiday  if 
I  thought  there  might  be  letters  waiting  for  us." 

Amy  and  Grace  protested. 

But  they  were  not  disappointed.  There  were 
not  only  letters  from  the  boys,  but  several  fat  and 
interesting  epistles  from  friends  and  relatives  in 
Deepdale,  including  two  from  Paul  and  Dodo, 
MolHe's  small  and  mischievous  brother  and  sister. 

"Let's  drive  away  out  of  town  where  we  can 
be  by  ourselves,"  Betty  suggested,  face  radiant, 
fingers  fairly  aching  to  tear  the  precious  missives 
from  their  envelopes.  "Then  we  can  stop  the  car 
and  Mollie  can  read  hers,  too." 

"You  always  have  the  right  idea,  Betty  honey," 
said  Mollie,  with  fond  emphasis,  as  she  swung 
the  car  at  breakneck  speed  down  the  street  and 
headed  for  the  open  country.  "Now  aren't  you 
glad,"  she  flung  at  Grace  and  Amy,  "that  we 
made  you  go  back  with  us  and  take  a  chance?" 

"Don't  rub  it  in,  Mollie  dear,"  purred  Grace, 
too  happy  at  the  prospect  before  them  to  contra- 
dict anything  or  anybody  on  earth.  "We  are 
deeply  appreciative  and  inordinately  grateful  to 


TO   "CARRY   ON"  213 

you  for  your  wonderful  foresight  and  insistence." 

"Is  she  calling  me  names  ?"  cried  Mollie  threat- 
eningly. "For  if  she  is,  I  should  like  to  remark 
for  the  benefit  of  each  and  every  one  that  I  am 
still  in  possession  of  the  wheel,  and  a  swift  and 
terrible  doom  shall  overtake " 

"Rave  on,  rave  on,  Macbeth,"  chuckled  Betty, 
adding  with  a  whimsical  smile  and  a  quickened 
heart  beat  as  she  fingered  the  letter  she  had  so 
carefully  placed  under  the  rest :  "There's  no  use, 
Mollie  dear — you  can't  start  a  rumpus  now.  It 
can't  be  done.  We're  all  too  good-natured." 

"That's  the  way  Frank  talks  after  a  particularly 
good  meal,"  chuckled  Mollie. 

"And  I  never  saw  boys  who  were  so  absolutely 
crazy  about  hot  biscuits,"  sighed  Amy.  "If  you 
gave  them  enough  hot  biscuits,  they  didn't  seem 
to  know  or  care  whether  they  had  anything  else 
or  not." 

"Yes,  somebody  was  always  stirring  up  biscuit 
dough  when  we  were  at  Pine  Island,"  agreed 
Grace,  her  eyes  dreamy.  "I  think  one  of  us 
should  have  invented  a  patent  stirrer — just  in 
self-defense!" 

"Just  the  same,  I'd  wager  anything,"  cried 
Betty,  with  a  thrill  in  her  voice  and  the  hint  of 
tears  behind  the  brightness  of  her  eyes,  "that 
there  isn't  one  of  us  who  wouldn't  be  willing  to 


make  biscuits  from  morning  till  night  if  we  only 
had  the  boys  here  to  eat  them." 

"Oh,  wouldn't  we!"  cried  Amy  hungrily.  "I 
shouldn't  care  if  I  turned  into  a  biscuit!" 

They  laughed  at  that,  but  the  laugh  was  not 
scornful,  for  their  hearts  were  very  full  and  ten- 
der. 

"Sha'n't  we  stop  here?"  Mollie  asked,  after 
they  had  ridden  a  long,  long  way  in  silence.  "It's 
private  enough " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes/'  the  others  interrupted  her  ea- 
gerly, and  as  Mollie  guided  the  car  over  to  the  side 
of  the  road,  Betty  sprang  the  news  she  had  been 
bursting  to  tell  ever  since  they  started. 

"Girls,"  she  cried,  and  quickly  they  turned  to 
her,  sensing  something  unusual  in  her  tone,  "I 
have  a  surprise  for  you." 

"Yes?"  they  cried  eagerly. 

"It's  about  our  Sergeant  William  Mullins  San- 
derson," she  announced,  her  eyes  sparkling. 

"Yes  ?"  they  cried  again,  and  Mollie  added  im- 
patiently : 

"Oh,  Betty,  don't  keep  us  waiting.  What 
about  him?" 

"Only,"  said  Betty,  speaking  very  slowly  and 
distinctly,  "that  he's  got  the  thing  he  wanted  most 
in  the  world — besides  his  mother.  This  morning 
he  received  his  overseas  orders." 


TO   "CARRY   ON"  215 

"Oh,  Betty!"  cried  Mollie,  her  eyes  big  and 
round.  "Isn't  he  simply  wild  about  it?" 

"He's  delirious,"  said  Betty  simply,  adding, 
with  the  ring  of  pride  in  her  voice :  "He  seemed 
two  inches  taller  when  he  told  me  about  it.  Oh, 
the  spirit  of  our  boys — the  wonderful  spirit  of 
them !  It  can't  take  them  long,  it  can't,  when  they 
once  get  started!" 

"But  Mrs.  Sanderson,"  put  in  Amy  gently. 
"How  is  she  taking  it?" 

"I  haven't  seen  her  yet,"  said  Betty,  her  face 
sobering  a  little.  But  it  brightened  again  as  she 
added  with  conviction :  "I  think  we  know  enough 
about  that  little  lady  to  be  sure  she'll  take  it 
standing  up  and  be  prouder  than  ever  of  her 
'Willie  boy.'  " 

"Of  course  she  will,"  said  Grace  softly,  her 
eyes  following  the  red  disc  of  the  sun  as  it  sank 
slowly  in  the  west.  "We're  all  awfully  proud  of 
them,  but  I  don't  think  any  of  us  can  help  wish- 
ing that  it  were  all  over  instead  of  just  beginning, 
and  that  the  boys  were  coming  home  to  us  vic- 
torious." 

"We  shouldn't  be  human  if  we  didn't  feel  that 
way,"  said  Betty  soberly.  "But  we  haven't  come 
to  the  joyful  part,  yet.  Just  now  we've  got  to 
keep  cheerful  and  hold  on  hard  to  our  hope  and 
faith  in  the  future.  We  owe  that  to  the  boys,  the 


2l6    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

boys  who  are  fighting,  perhaps  dying  for  us,  more 
than  we  owe  it  to  ourselves. 

"But  now,"  she  added,  forcing  a  lighter  tone, 
"we've  got  a  big  treat  before  us  and  we're  not 
going  to  think  of  anything  but  just  that.  Our 
letters,  girls — we've  been  forgetting  them." 

The  girls  started,  looked  surprised,  then  in- 
stantly responded  to  the  challenge  of  her  lighter 
tone. 

"Goodness,  it's  you  who  made  us  forget  them, 
Betty  Nelson,"  cried  Grace,  squeezing  the  Little 
Captain's  hand  fondly,  then  falling  to  with  a  will 
on  her  own  momentarily  neglected  mail.  "Just 
see,"  she  added  wickedly,  holding  up  two  letters 
with  the  coveted  foreign  postmark  before  their 
envious  eyes,  "what  an  advantage  it  is  to  have  a 
brother  in  the  army  as  well  as  a — a " 

"Well,  go  ahead,"  Betty  teased,  while  the  oth- 
ers laughed  delightedly  at  her  flaming  color. 
"What  is  that  other  thing  you've  got  besides  a 
brother,  the  mere  mention  of  whose  name  makes 
you  the  color  of  a  beet? — I  should  say,"  correct- 
ing herself  with  a  demure  little  smile,  "the  color 
of  a  flaming  sunset " 

"That  would  be  more  poetic,"  agreed  Mollie 
soberly,  while  her  eyes  danced.  "But  either  de- 
scription would  be  correct." 

"You  geese,"  cried  Grace,  trying  vainly  to  hide 


TO   "CARRY    ON"  217 

her  flushed  face  behind  the  letter  she  had  opened. 
"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about." 

"She  remindeth  me  of  the  graceful  ostrich," 
chanted  Mollie  cruelly,  "who  hideth  his  head  and 
thinks  thereby " 

"Now  I  know  you're  calling  me  names,"  cried 
Grace,  raising  the  flushed  face  and  glaring  threat- 
eningly at  the  back  of  the  mischievous  Mollie. 

"Well,  she  at  least  said  you  were  graceful," 
chuckled  Betty,  tearing  open  a  letter  from  Deep- 
dale  and  still  reserving  the  best  till  the  last. 
"Anyway,"  she  added,  "we  have  better  things  to 
do  than  to  engage  in  useless  controversy." 

"I  don't  know  what  it's  all  about,"  said  Mollie, 
settling  herself  luxuriously  to  enjoy  her  own 
small  pile  of  letters.  "But  I'll  take  your  word 
for  it,  Betty,  just  the  same." 

And  while  they  read  the  dusk  came  down  upon 
them  softly  like  a  mantle,  and  the  setting  sun  sent 
ruddy  rays  to  touch  their  young,  bowed  heads. 

The  last  paragraph  of  Allen's  letter  Betty  read 
and  reread,  finally  through  a  mist  of  tears  that 
blurred  the  words  and  ran  them  in  together. 

"It  won't  be  long,"  he  wrote,  "before  we 
fellows  will  receive  the  orders  that  we've  all  been 
crazy  for — the  orders  that  will  take  us  to  the 
front.  And  then,  Betty,  there's  not  a  Hun  that 


218    OUTDOOR  GIRLS  AT  THE  HOSTESS  HOUSE 

can  stand  before  me.  For  I've  a  memory,  little 
girl,  that  will  make  me  carry  on  to  victory — and 
you.  Will  you  be  waiting  for  me,  Betty,  when 
it's  over?  Will  you  want  me  then?  For  I'm 
coming  to  you,  little  girl.  As  surely  as  the  sun 
rises  every  morning  and  sets  again  at  night,  I'm 
coming  to  you.  Betty,  dear,  I'm  loving  you — 

And  Betty,  raising  a  transfigured,  tremulous 
face,  gazed  straight  into  the  heart  of  the  setting 
sun. 

"Yes,  I'll  be  waiting,"  she  whispered  to  herself. 
"Oh,  Allen,  come  back  to  me — come  back  to  me — 
soon " 

And  so,  in  the  midst  of  stirring  scenes,  with 
martial  music  always  ringing  in  their  ears,  with 
pride  in  the  past  and  courage  in  the  future,  we 
once  more  wave  farewell  to  our  Outdoor  Girls. 


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